Possession
by Android18
Summary: It's all a game.
1. Fear

POSSESSION  
By Android18

Chapter 1 - Fear

"What in the name of Dende were you thinking!"

"To tell you the truth, Yamcha, I'm not sure." Bulma put the phone against her other ear, as she reached for her cup of coffee, "Believe me, I regret this a lot more than you do."

"I can imagine! Can you even begin to comprehend how many millions of people he's murdered? How many times he turned on his own men for amusement? He's crazy! Bulma you need to get him out of your house!"

"Yamcha! This isn't helping any! I can't just throw him out after I invited him to stay - he'd probably blow me up for it!"

Yamcha sighed on the other end of the line. "Just be careful around him, okay?"

Bulma let a weary smile escape her lips at her boyfriend's concern. "Don't worry. I will."

"But I do worry, Bulma. I know how Vegeta is. He's very proud and still thinks of himself as a prince." He hesitated before continuing, "...and I know how you are."

"Nani?"

"I can just picture you letting that mouth of yours run away and saying the wrong thing to him and...Bulma just be extra careful around him, alright?"

Bulma rolled her eyes. "Alright. But don't worry, once I get the new gravity room built, I'll hardly ever see him. The only reason he talks to me is to tell me to hurry up with building it. Once it's finished, he'll probably only come out for food and sleep."

"Yeah, I know...but still, be careful."

"I will, Yamcha."

With that, they both hung up. Bulma turned back to face the papers in front of her. She slumped in her chair, exhausted just from thinking about all the work this new gravity machine would take. "I'm gonna need a whole lot of coffee," she mumbled as she made some last minute adjustments to the plans she had drawn up.

She had been up all night making the plans, afraid that if she went to bed, she'd lose her train of thought and have to start over. After she had finished, she went to bed only to be awaken a few hours later from a certain Saiyan Prince demanding she get to work. So here she was, correcting a few minor mistakes she made the night before in her exhausted state. Now for the hard part - turning the drawings on all her papers into an actual object. She sighed again and went to the kitchen to get that pot of coffee.

She let a yawn escape from her as she stretched her arms above her head and entered the kitchen. As she entered the door way, something grabbed her hair and in the next moment, she was thrown against the wall, being held there by her blue locks.

"What do you think you're doing," came a harsh voice.

"I...I..." Startled, Bulma tried to regain her breath and composer, "I just came to get some coffee."

She was then thrown to the ground as pain rushed to her knees as they forcefully crushed against the floor. She yelped in pain and immediately regretted it as a sharp pain ran through her head from her hair being pulled so tightly.

Vegeta stormed to where she was on the ground and glared down at her. Bulma winced and held an arm in front of her face, as if expecting to be hit.

Vegeta smirked. "Hurry up and get that machine made." He said in a low growl that sent a shiver running through the young woman's body.

Keeping her eyes on the ground, she nodded. Vegeta smirked again at the cowarding girl before him. She heard him snicker as he calmly walked out of the house.

As soon as he left, Bulma let out the breath she had been holding and got back on her feet, trying to forget about what just happened. She stared at the doorway he just left through as she muttered, "Stupid baka prince." Then unplugged the coffee pot, grabbed a can of coffee, and some filters and headed back to her lab, where she set up her beverage there. This way she wouldn't have to leave her lab. Vegeta never went in there...or at least he hadn't yet.

Bulma sat at her computer, programing some chips that would be used in the gravity machine. After about an hour of typing, a screen above her flashed and was lowered in front of her. The image of her father apeared.

"Bulma, you there?" her father asked.

"Yeah, dad. Just working on the programming."

"Good. I've got the basic structure built, we just need to add the wiring, chips, and such to it."

Bulma smiled. "Thanks, dad. I really appreciate it. I'm so exhausted and Mr. Royal-Pain-In-the-Rear-end-you'll-do-whatever-I-say-cause-I'm-the-prince-of-a-dead-race won't let me out of my lab until I've finished the gravity room."

"Well, you're gonna have to leave the lab to work on it."

"You know what I mean."

"Yes. He seems to give you a harder time than the rest of us - although I think your mother annoys him the most."

Bulma giggled, "Well, I'd be annoyed to if she was flirting with me."

"Well, I'd be really worried if she was flirting with you!" her father joked.

"You know what I meant!"

Her father chuckled. Bulma sighed. For a moment, she had been released from the hell she was going through to put this machine into motion. Now it was time to get back to work - the sooner it got done, the better.

"I'm going to finish this program for the GR, then I'll be right out to help install everything."

"Alright, dear. Don't work too hard."

Bulma rolled her eyes, "Yeah, whatever."

Her father chuckled one last time before hanging up. Bulma yawned and slowly closed her eyes, the sleepness night catching up to her. She forced her eyes back open and turned back to her computer.

She cracked her knuckles before continuing the large amount of typing. "Maybe I'll be better off if I just let the androids kill me," she stated sarcasticly as her head began to whirl once again from work overload.


	2. A Need of Sleep

POSSESSION  
Chapter 2 - A Need For Sleep

Bulma struggled to keep her eyes open as she completed her programming code of ones and zeros. Her body longed for sleep and though her stomach was howling for food, she knew that she wouldn't last through a meal. Once she was finished, she was going to pass out - she done made up her mind. And no arogant Saiyan baka was going to stop her.

She took another sip of her coffee, the only thing that's been keeping her going. But her body was starting to grow an immunity to the cafine and she could feel it throughout her entire body. She finished her program and turned from the computer screen.

Now her eyes hurt. Hour after hour of staring at the screen, now her eyes needed to readjust to the room around her. Her head was spinning and she had a hard time standing. "He better appreciate this," she mumbled as she fumbled around and grabbed the chip for the GR and started for the door. Then she laughed, realizing what she had just said. "Woah - did I just say I was expecting some decency from Mr. Fix my machine or I'll kill you? I must really be tired." Finding her situation, in some morbid way, funny, she was out the door with a small, yet weary, grin. Of coarse, she had a cup of coffee with her.

Bulma headed for the other side of the compound where the living quarters were and went outside to where her father was working on the Gravity Room. Bulma squinted, now having to readjust her eyes to the brightness outside. The vulgar sunshine was sending a wave of pain throughout her head and its warm rays were causing her to become even more tired. Never the less, she took a sip of coffee and joined her father.

"How's it coming?" she greeted her father.

"I think we've just about got it. Isn't that right, Kitty?" he replied, patting the cat on his shoulder on the head.

"So lets get this chip in the board, install the heating/cooling systems, and get the wiring completed for lighting and we'll be done in no time."

"I already started the wiring while you were programing the chip, so lets get that finished."

Bulma smiled, "Let's get to work."

With that, Bulma set out for her tool box and started the process of wiring the machine. She was slow, and it was aggrevating her.

"Bulma, you're crossing the wrong wires!"

"Huh? Oh my kami! That would have been disastrous," she looked at her mess, "I really need to wake up."

"Hello dear!" her mother greeted from across the lawn, "Since that nice man will be coming out here so often, I've decided to plant some tulips out here. Aren't they just adorable!"

"Mother, don't ever refer to that beast as a 'nice man'," Bulma mummbled.

"Why not, dear?" her mother asked, tilting her head a bit and raising her index finger, "Oh! I better get the hose and water these little flowers."

Bulma rolled her eyes, but then got an idea. When her mother came back with the hose, Bulma "kindly" took it away and watered herself down. The cold water sent a shock throughout her body, suddenly alerting her. Now that she was fully awake and refreshed, she went to work on the Gravity Room.

"She can be so strange," her mother stated as she spotted Vegeta leaning against the doorway of the house, watching the whole scene.

Her father had finished the wiring, so Bulma went for the wrench with a whole new energy. She didn't mind being wet, for this is what was going to keep her awake long enough to get this thing finished. She immediately began installing the heating/cooling systems, getting a little dirty here and there due to the fact that she was wet. When she had to kneel on the ground, dirt would cling to her wet skin. Though the dirt was annoying, she kept working. Being fully awake, she was quick, yet graceful and precise.

Her father kept teasing her about her muddy legs, but she showed no aggrevation towards her father. She hummed a song to keep herself going and to pass the time as she continued working. She knelt next to the machine, getting her knees dirty, yet once again. Suddenly, she felt a pair of eyes on her. She slowly turned her head to see Vegeta on the other side of the lawn, leaning in the doorway to the kitchen.

Bulma shivered when she realized who's eyes had been on her. The stoic showed no sign of amusement or resentment. Just cold eyes glaring at her, piercing her skin. She looked back down at her work, but her smile was no longer there and she couldn't bring herself to hum any tunes. She just continued working silently in a state of complete awkwardness, knowing the fact his eyes were still on her. Once in a while, she'd glance up to see if he was still there. And he was. Just staring, glaring. Just glaring at her. She couldn't quite figure out why he hated her so much, and she wouldn't really care if it wasn't for the fact that he just kept staring at her.

"Finished!" her father cried out, causing Bulma to jump from her train of thought. She forced out a smile.

"I'll put in the chip," she said, running to the other side of the machine, glad that she was now out of Vegeta's sight range. She opened the board and went for the chip, when she noticed her dirty hands. "Oh, great," she mumbled, knowing she couldn't touch the chip with dirty hands.

"Dad, can you do it! My hands are dirty."

"Wash 'em. Mine are dirty too. Besides, you should do the honors."

"Just great," she mumbled, as she headed for the hose, being careful not to make eye contact with Vegeta. She could feel his heavy stare on her as she stood next to him, rinsing her hands off. She shook her hands in the air, to remove the water and get them dry. She glanced up for a moment, and as she suspected he was still glaring at her. His stare was blank. It was like he knew something about her that she didn't want him to know. Like he knew her biggest secret and although he wasn't going to throw it in her face, he was satisfied with just knowing it. This creeped her out even more. She turned her head away and ran back to the machine.

She carefully took out a small tool and installed the tiny chip in the board. She closed the door.

"Done," she shouted with enthusiasm.

She went to the door of the machine, momentarily forgetting the Saiyan's stare that was still on her. She went inside the machine and flipped on a switch and the room lit up and immediately started to cool off, a relief from the sun's hot rays. She went to the middle of the room and set it to go to 2xg and pushed a red button. Immediately, she felt a slight tug on her as the room turned slightly a bit darker. She smiled and pushed the red button again, the gravity turning back to normal and the lights going back to their full effect. A huge smile lit up her face as she shone with pride from her newest accomplishment.

"Very good," her father nodded.

"Thanks for the help, dad." Bulma said, turning to her father, "Now I can get some sleep."

"Well, you better show that man how to use it first."

Bulma rolled her eyes. "Could you do it? He creeps me out."

"He kinda gives me the creeps, too. Besides, you're the one who got us into this situation. It'll only take a few minutes of your time. I have to return to my lab to finish up the training droids."

"I thought you were done with them!" Bulma exclaimed, suddenly alarmed.

"Yeah, I just need to make a final touch. I'll be done by the time you show him around."

"Alright." Bulma said in defeat.

She and her father walked together to the house, silently congratulating each other on their accomplishment. They reached the door, Dr. Brief retreated to his lab as Bulma stopped in front of Vegeta.

Her eyes were on the ground as she approached him. She swallowed hard, still keeping her gaze on the ground.

"It's finsihed," she said in a low tone.

"Finally," he growled.

Bulma glared, though still staring at the ground. "I couldn't agree more," she mummbled. "Come on, I'll show you how it works." With that, she retreated to the machine, followed by the Saiyan prince.

They entered and she pointed to the controls in the middle of the room. "This adjusts the lighting," she explained, "and these controls adjusts the heat and air. You move this knob to warm the room up, and if you turn it the other way, it gets cooler. Simple enough?"

"How do you adjust the gravity?"

"I'm getting to that." Keeping her gaze away from Vegeta, she turned to the set of control he was standing in front of. "These buttons here are what you'll use to put the gravity to what you want. Then, you push this red button to turn it on. Push the red button again, and it will return back to normal."

"Any questions?"

Silence.

"Then, I'll be going," Bulma said, heading for the door. Vegeta grabbed her wrist and swung her against the wall.

"You will not bother me while I'm training,"

Bulma shook her head in agreement, not being able to bring herself to talk. Vegeta grabbed her chin and slowly forced her head so she had to look at him. He brought his face up to her's, his glare sending shivers down her spine. He looked right into her eyes, like he was trying to figure her out. Then, something sparked in his eyes. Like he knew her. Everything about her. Like he had her figured out. Now Bulma was really scared. That cold, stoic glare not making the situation any better. After a moment of silence, Vegeta spoke to her in a low, and dark tone.

"You will leave me be and won't show your hideous face around me unless I ask something of you."

Bulma swallowed hard.

"Understand?"

Bulma nodded.

"Answer aloud."

"Yes," Bulma whispered.

With that, Vegeta turned back to the controls as Bulma went out the door. She kept her composure until she got into her room. Then, she released the fear that was building in her. She couldn't keep her hands from shaking and her breathing was unsteady as she wondered how long she could put up living in this fear.  
Convincing herself she was strong, she held back her tears and went for the shower to get out of her wet clothes. Then, she attempted to get her long awaited sleep.


	3. Knowing Enough, Knowing Nothing

POSSESSION  
Chapter 3 - Knowing Enough, Knowing Nothing

Ring...

Ring...

Ring...

In a wave of dreams, Bulma could hear a faint ringing...

Ring...

Ring...

Ring...

It was gradually getting louder and louder...louder...until...

"Stupid phone...stupid people...stupid people who can't answer stupid phone..."

Bulma mummbled various phrases under her breath as she tried to open her eyes. Being too tired, she decided against it and felt around her night stand for the phone. Her hand came into contact with the familar object and she answered the phone.

"Moshi moshi," came a drowsy greeting.

"Bulma? Is that you?"

"Yeah, Yamcha. It's me. What do you want?"

"I know it's dinner time, but I didn't want to wait too late."

"What do you want?" she repeated.

"I just wanted to know if you wanted to go out for breakfast tomorrow morning or something."

"No."

"No? You're not mad at me are you?"

"No. Gomen, Yamcha. I'm just exhausted. I'm sleeping in tomorrow morning."

"Oh, well, okay. Maybe some other time?"

"Yeah," Bulma was trying to think of some way to make it up to him. He was, after all, just trying to be nice and she didn't want him to think she was pushing him away. "I know," she said, opening her eyes. "How about tomorrow night? I'll be rested up. We could go out dancing or something."

"Actually I thought we could talk a bit. How about a walk by the river?"

"That sounds nice," Bulma said in a sigh. "I think that'd be a lot better than dancing."

"Yeah. So I'll be there around eight?"

"Okay. But for now, I'm going to bed."

"Yeah," Yamcha chuckled, "You sound like you haven't slept in days."

"Goodbye, Yamcha."

"Bye, Bulma." With that, Bulma hung up her phone and rolled over on her bed. She was sooo exhausted. Her body ached all over from lack of rest and her head was pounding. She looked out the window to see the sparkling diamonds in the sky, which indicated that it was evening.

The house seemed surprisingly peaceful. She heard faint conversations below her, indicating the family was gathering for supper. Which meant, her mother would soon be..

Knock, knock, knock

"Yeah, mom?"

"You hungry, dear?" Her mother's voice sang.

"No. I just want to sleep!"

"But that nice man you invited over might feel uncomfortable if you're not there."

"Mother! One: he is NOT a nice man. Two: he could care less if I was there or not."

"Now, Bulma I think that..."

"Oh, alright! I'm coming, mother!"

Bulma drug herself out of bed, and although she had been sleeping since she finished the GR, she was still feeling drowsy. She drug herself downstairs and entered the kitchen only half awake. She sat down at the table next to her father, which happened to be across from Vegeta. BIG mistake.

Bulma sat looking down at an empty plate, concentrating on keeping her eyes open. As food was being passed around the table, Bulma just pushed her plate aside so she had room to rest her head. Her father nudged her with his elbow and she opened her eyes with a start.

"Don't sleep at the table, honey."

"Sorry," she said, trying to suppress a yawn, but failed. So instead, she rested her elbows on the table and rested her head in her hands, struggling to stay awake.

She slouched in her seat and in doing so, kicked something from underneath. She heard a low growl from across the table and looked up to see none other than the Saiyan Prince.

"Sorry," she whispered, sitting back up in her chair.

Vegeta just glared at her, sending chills down her spine. Those cold eyes that painfully dug into her soul. She turned her head, pretending not to notice it. But no matter how much she tried to convince herself, she knew his stare was heavy on her. Why'd he have to torture HER?

"So how's the training going, Vegeta?" Bulma's mother asked, oblivous to his torment on her daughter.

"Nobody bother me," he growled, and went back to his food.

Bulma decided it'd be safe to look up now, since he was eating.

"Well, if you need anything at all," her mother continued, "feel free to ask any of us, okay?"

Bulma glared at her mom and glanced at Vegeta, who looked up and gave her a small smirk.

"I'll do that," he said in a frightenly low tone, keeping his eyes on Bulma.

"May I be excused, thanks." Bulma said, not waiting for a response. She hurried to her room, shutting the door and feeling a strange need to lock it.

"Oh, kami," she whispered under her breathe. She could normally stand up to someone who wasn't threatening her physically...but let's face it, this guy was just creepy. And who's to say he won't kill her and her family. What if he tests the GR out, find it works, and decides he doesn't need her or her family anymore.

"No," Bulma told herself, "he needs food and clothing," she reassured herself.

Something was really bothering her - why her? He didn't seem to be doing this to any of her family members. He'd let them know to back off, but if Bulma was so much as in his presence, he'd scare her off. She tried being nice to him, but he just didn't seem to appreciate it. She was really starting to regret inviting him to stay with her.

But she was too tired to dwell on it any longer. She layed back down on her bed and immediately fell into a deep slumber...

Bulma awoke in the middle of the night to find that she couldn't go back to sleep. After sleeping for a lot of the day, she was just no longer tired.

"Just great," she mumbled to herself, "Now I'll be up all night and be worn out tomorrow."

Deciding that it'd be wise to get back to sleep, she decided that some warm milk would do the trick.

Bulma slowly opened her door, not wanting to wake anybody. She quietly headed down the hall when she got that weird feeling again. Like somebody was watching her. She slowly turned around and let out a little scream when she saw a man standing in the doorway of the room down the hall - the room that belonged to Vegeta.

"Don't scare me like that!" she said in a loud whisper, "What are you doing there, anyway?" she asked, her eyes narrowing at him.

Vegeta just rolled his eyes and went into his room, shutting the door. Bulma figured he must have just now gotten done training and was going to bed.

She quietly went down the stairs to the kitchen, turning on the lights. She looked at the clock that hung on the wall. It read 3:00 a.m.

"What's he doing training this late?" Bulma wondered aloud, but not dwelling too much on it. Trying to figure Vegeta out was like trying to convince Goku that the world had run out of food and he'd never be able to eat again. She let out a small smile at the expression he'd give her if she did try to tell him he'd never have fried chicken again. She opened the fridge and pulled out the carton of milk.

"I train as long as I wish."

Bulma jumped and dropped the carton, sending milk splashing all over her. "Vegeta? What are you doing up?"

"I came for a drink, but I see now I won't be able to get any."

"Well, if you hadn't scared me.."

"Fear is a weakness. If your enemy knows your fears, your enemy knows enough."

"Well, you startled me. And you know nothing about me, so don't give me that."

"Am I the enemy?"

Bulma looked at Vegeta for a moment, trying figure out what he was getting at. His face remained expressionless. He quietly walked over to her, keeping eye contact with her. When he was just a few inches away he began whispering in her ear.

"I know your fears."

Bulma swallowed hard, not sure what he was going to do. She took a step back, but tried to look brave.

"Do you?" she managed to get out, and trying to sound half way mysterious about it.

He took another step towards her, and she instinctively took a step back, right into the fridge. He took another step towards her, glaring into her eyes, his face still remaining stoic.

She gasped when he rose his hand up. She winced and closed her eyes, preparing herself for what was next. He quickly brought it down, stopping suddenly, right in front of face. He softly tapped her cheek, sending shivers down her spine. Keeping her eyes closed in fear, she could feel his breathe on her neck. She could sense his mouth right next to her ear.

"Me," he whispered, as her eyes flew open.

"Please leave me alone," she pleaded, her eyes filling with tears.

He took a step back to look at her. She was obviously terrified, shaking from head to toe, eyes watering, and her breathing hard. He cupped her chin in his hand and narrowed his eyes at her.

"Just for now," he said in that low, dark tone. Then, he turned and left the room.

Bulma sank to the floor and just sat there. She refused to let her tears be released because of him. But never the less, she couldn't hide her fear. Her hands were shaking uncontrolably and she didn't want to go back to her room in fear that he'd be waiting for her in his doorway. Why was she so scared around him? He knows her fear...he is her fear. He is her weakness. But the question that was bothering her was, is he the enemy? If he was her enemy...then he knew enough...and she knew nothing.


	4. Who is the Enemy?

**Chapter 4: Who is the Enemy?**

* * *

POSSESSION  
Chapter 4 - Who's the Enemy?

Bulma sat there on the kitchen floor, left with nothing but the hauntings of her thoughts. The clock ticked with each passing moment, the intervals seemingly becoming farther and farther apart. It seemed like time was slowing down and she'd wait for what seemed like hours in her mind before she heard the next tick of the clock. But it came with each second, that dragged on. And as it did, it seemed to get louder as the world around her was frightenly still.

On the cold floor, there was nothing to do but think. She was a wreck and just wanted to be back in her bed. Kami, the floor is so cold. She shivered and wrapped her arms around her knees, embracing herself with what warmth she had. She was alone.

She wasn't just by herself, but utterly alone. In the kitchen, in the room, in her thoughts, in her own mind...she was forced into solitude.

Wait a minute! "What am I thinking?" she thought, "I have Yamcha, Goku, Chi Chi, and many people who care about me. Why would I all of a sudden think I was alone?"

Vegeta. Almost everybody had suffered from his wrath of physical torment, but she was alone in the fact that she was a victim of a beast trying to take her only sanity. She couldn't live like this. Hiding away in her lab. Scared to go up the stairs. Sitting on the cold floor. Being scared of her own thoughts.

She slowly rose from the kitchen floor and quietly made her way up the stairs. She told herself that Vegeta wouldn't just wait at the top of the stairs all night just to scare her. He's the Saiyan Prince, he had better things to do.

The stairs creaked from under her. She paused, her fear magnifying the sound. She wondered how loud she actually was. She took a deep breathe to reassure herself and continued making her way to her destination.

Bulma reached the top of the stairs, peering around for anything that was out of place. A dark figured lingured on the wall. She gasped as she jumped up with a start. Fear ran through her vains as she tried to comprehend what the figure was. When a small kitten came from around the corner, she sighed in relief and laughed at herself. She sank to the floor, wondering what in Chinkyuu-sei was wrong with her.

The kitten jumped in her lap, looking up at her with curious eyes. She laughed harder. The innocent creature had no idea how much it had scared her. She continued to laugh, no longer caring about her sanity.

She gently picked up the kitten, still laughing. "Come on, Kitty. It's time to get some sleep." She laughed once more, while entering her room.

She stepped in the doorway and opened her door. She suddenly stopped laughing and froze in place. She couldn't help but think that somebody was watching her. She took a glance over her shoulder, but shrugged it off. "At this point, I just don't care," she said rolling her eyes. With that, she closed her door and changed into some PJ's. She crawled onto her bed and fell into a deep sleep.

Bulma awoke to feel a light tickling on her hand. She slowly opened her eyes, adjusting them to the unexpected sunlight pouring through her window. The sounds of birds chirping filled the her ears as she rose up and finally got her eyes completely open. She giggled when she noticed the tiny kitten licking her hand. "I guess it's time to get up," she chuckled. The smell of freshly baked cinamon rolls filled the air. Bulma smiled. She didn't need somebody there to tell her it was a good morning.

She rose from the bed and went into her bathroom, turning on a cold shower. She slowly got in, adjusting the water a bit, but keeping it cold enough to get her fully awake. Feeling refreshed, she emerged from her bathroom wrapped in a towel. She went to her closet, looking for a nice outfit. Figuring it would be hot, she settled with a blue tank top and a pair of jean shorts. Drying her hair and getting dressed, she started to talk to the small kitten that was still sitting on her bed.

"Today, I'm not going to let Vegeta get to me. He is, afterall, a guest of this house. It's a nice day, and he's not going to ruin that for me." Satisfied with her declamation, she picked up the tiny kitten. "I'm sure daddy's missing you." With that, she was out of her room and down the stairs.

She entered the kitchen with a bright smile. Her mother was icing the rolls, her father was drinking a cup of coffee, looking deep in thought. Vegeta stood in the corner of the kitchen, secluding himself from the Brief family.

"Morning, mom!" She greeted.

"Morning, dear," her mother replied.

"Morning, dad. Missing something?" She teased, placing the kitten on his right shoulder.

"Morning, Bulma," her father then turned to the kitten on his shoulder, "Where have you been all night?"

Bulma giggled and took a seat next to her father.

"Well, somebody's in a good mood this morning," Dr. Brief stated, turning back to his daughter.

"Well, it's just so nice out today," Bulma stated, pouring herself a cup of coffee.

"That it is," her father agreed.

Bulma looked up to see Vegeta rolling his eyes. "Good morning, Vegeta," Bulma stated, just loud enough for everyone to hear.

"It sure appears that way, doesn't it?" he replied.

Bulma opened her mouth to say something, but wasn't sure what. She hadn't expected a response like that...she wasn't even expecting a response. She smiled, then just nodded.

Vegeta approached the table. "Things aren't always what they appear to be," he stated in a low voice as he took his seat across from Bulma.

"They can be," Bulma stated simply. "It's all in the state of mind."

"That it is," Vegeta agreed, never changing his expression. His voice turned to a whisper as his eyes narrowed. "But the mind can play cruel tricks. Sometimes it can manipulate your fears and bring out the worst from your soul."

Bulma gulped. "What's that suppose to mean?" she asked in a tone that gave away that she was unsure of herself.

"You'll see," he whispered just loud enough for her to hear.

Bulma felt a chill go through her as her heart started to pound. "You're planning something," Bulma simply stated.

"Not necessarily," he claimed, not taking his eyes from her's, "but then again, you can't be sure. It's all in your mind, onna."

Bulma froze, not sure how to react.

"Breakfast is ready!" Mrs. Brief announed placing plates of rolls along the middle of the table. Bulma sat, emotionless, staring at the one who sat across from her, trying to figure him out. Deciding it was useless, she turned her thoughts to her father.

"So what's going on today?" she asked, trying to sound like the conversation she had just had didn't bother her a bit.

"Well, it seems that the training droids aren't strong enough," Dr. Brief chuckled, "Our guest here has destroyed them all in his training last night."

"What? Already?" Bulma glanced at Vegeta, then turned back to her father. "But we worked so hard planning them out!"

"That's part of being a scientist," her father shrugged, "sometimes you don't get it right the first time. We just need to think of something that could attack and defend better."

Bulma placed her chin in her hand, deep in thought, unaware of the heavy stare on her. Suddenly her eyes widened. "I've got it!" she exclaimed. "Okay," she turned to her father, "what if we make them so they deflect his attacks?"

Dr. Brief thought for a moment and slowly began nodding his head.

"That way," she continued, "not only is it defending itself, but it's shooting Vegeta an attack to match his own. So, he has no choice but to become stronger."

"Yes, that could work," her father agreed, "What do you think?" her father asked, turning to Vegeta.

Vegeta kept his glare on Bulma. "I think the onna has a strong mind," he stated. An evil grin slowly appeared on his face as he added in a dark tone, "but not strong enough."

Bulma turned away from Vegeta to avoid his stare. It was so hard to ignore him! Even if she refused to look at him, she could still feel that cold stare fixed on her. Why her?

"We'll get straight to work after breakfast," her father stated.

Bulma grinned and nodded, trying to make Vegeta think he didn't phase her any. But somehow she got this feeling that he knew...and that scared her.

The rest of the breakfast continued almost in complete silence. Bulma's mother made some comments here and there. Dr. Brief sat, deep in thought about how they were going to pull this new invention off. Bulma sat in the discomfort of knowing that those cold, dark eyes were fixed on her. Feeling a fear rising from in her, she pushed it to the back of her mind. But she knew she couldn't deny it. It was there and she hated herself for allowing it. What pleasure he got from making her feel this rose a stronger hate from deep within her, and she tried to convinse herself it was focused at him. Her own mind even betrayed her by deluding the thought enough so she believed it.

Breakfast passed. Mrs. Brief was cleaning the kitchen, Vegeta was headed for the Gravity Room, and Bulma was following her father into his lab. So begins what would become a typical morning at the Brief house.

Bulma got out the paper used for making blue prints and they went straight to work. They discussed, brainstormed, looked up things in books, drew layouts, erased, redrew, etc., etc.

By noon, little had been acomplished. The paper was still blank. Around it, books and papers were scattered about. Frustration was building up, but this is what the two Briefs liked about being scientists. Trying to do the impossible. It made the accomplishment much more exciting.

Bulma layed her head on the table in defeat. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea," she sighed.

"You say that everytimes," Dr. Brief chuckled, "but in the end, you never give up. You'll get it - you always do."

Bulma smiled. "You're right, dad. But for now, I need a break."

Dr. Brief nodded in agreement. Reading and thinking for hours on end could be exhausting. So the two left the lab in an attempt to take their mind off the project.

Bulma went into the kitchen, where the sunlight was pouring in. She could smell something cooking as she entered.

"Lunch already?" she asked her mother.

"Well, it is almost one," her mother pointed out.

Bulma turned to the clock to find her mom was right. Her and her father had been working longer than she thought. She went into the fridge and poured two glasses of lemonade, then joined her father out in the back yard.

"Wow, it's beautiful out," she stated in awe, handing her father a glass of lemonade. She sat in the grass, to enjoy the warmth of the sun for a moment. As the rays relaxed her body, she layed back on the ground, closing her eyes.

She could pick up the scent of freshly cut grass and flowers growing along the yard. She could hear birds chirping and various other animals. But the most relaxing thing of all was that sun. It poured out golden warmth that seemed to reach out to her.

She suddenly felt a chill as a shadow came over her. She slowly opened her eyes to see Vegeta standing over her. She immediately sat up, looking around for her father, who was nowhere to be found.

"Where'd my dad go?" she asked the Saiyan Prince.

Vegeta shrugged. "What are you doing out here?"

"Enjoying the day," Bulma said with a smile.

Vegeta glared at her with a stare that pierced right through her. He knew something...something she didn't want him to know. What scared her the most was, she didn't even know what that something was.

"What are you doing outside the GR?" Bulma asked with curiosity.

Vegeta knelt so that they were eye to eye, "What do you think I'm doing out here?"

"Um, I don't...I'm not sure. Enjoying the day?" she said with an uneasy laugh.

"No, onna. I'm not," he replied, whispering in that dark tone. With a few meaningless words, he could send her running for refuge. But she was determined not to back off so easily.

"Then why are you here?" she asked him, sternly.

Vegeta smirked. "How about we leave that for your mind to decide. I'm sure it'll come up with something." With that, he got up and headed for the house. This time, Bulma's eyes were on him.

"He is so strange," Bulma mumbled to herself, shaking her head.

Vegeta stopped in the doorway and called out over his shoulder, "At least I have control over my own sanity."

Bulma jumped. "He heard me?"

She heard her mother calling out that lunch was ready, so she retreated to the kitchen, also.

Bulma entered the kitchen to a familar scene: her father was at the table, her mother was finishing her cooking, and Vegeta was standing in the corner. Bulma sighed. "Here we go again," she thought as she rolled her eyes.

She took a seat, this time across from her father, just to change the scene a bit. As her mother started to place toasted sandwiches on the table, Bulma wondered where Vegeta would sit, now that she changed positions.

To her surprise, Vegeta took his normal seat - which was next to her. Dr. Brief raised an eyebrow, wondering exactly what was going on. Bulma pretended not to notice, and not to care.

She put a sandwich on her plate, along with some pasta salade and poured herself a glass of milk. She passed the milk to Vegeta, who brushed her hand while receiving the milk from her. She quickly took her hand away, now feeling really uneasy about being so close to the murderous Saiyan.

"So how's the project coming along?" Bulma's mother asked, breaking the silence.

"So far, it's hopeless," Dr. Brief sighed, "but we'll get it."

"Of coarse you will!" Mrs. Brief rang in a cheery voice.

"In the meantime, he can train without them in the gravity room," Bulma explained, "It's still a big difference in training. Once we have the training droids done, he'll be able to become strong enough to beat the androids in no time at all."

"Are you sure you want that, onna?" Vegeta asked.

"We need you to help defeat the enemy," Bulma stated.

"Am I the enemy?"

Bulma's eyes fell to the floor. Looking back up, she stated in a firm voice, "No."

Vegeta smirked and turned back to his food, shaking his head.

Bulma rose from the table. "I'm going to take my lunch to the lab. I'm going to try and see if I can get any progress done before I meet with Yamcha tonight." She turned to her father, "You going to join me?"

"Nope. I'm relaxing during this meal. I'll join you as soon as I'm done."

"Alright." With that, Bulma took her lunch and left the room.

Vegeta watched as she left the room and stood, taking up his lunch and leaving the room. Dr. Brief raised an eyebrow. "Now I wonder what got into those two."

"I think they make a cute couple," Mrs. Brief said, oblivious to the situation.

"I think that Vegeta is giving Bulma a hard time." Dr. Brief shook his head, knowing there was really nothing he could do about it. He knew Bulma could handle it. He just hoped Vegeta didn't try hurting her.

Bulma entered her father's lab and sighed in relief. She could eat in peace. She cleared a place off on the large round table her and her father were working at, and sat down with her lunch. She began digging through the papers, researching what possible way she could get these droids to work.

The KI blasts were, basicly, energy. So she needed something that could trap energy and shoot it back out. Or maybe just reflect it like a mirror. But it has to be able to withstand strong gravity.

Bulma dug through a book, taking a bite of her sandwich as she did so. She found something of interest and took down a few notes. Bulma got a strange feeling that somebody was watching her. She turned around, to find nobody was there. She shook it off and began working again.

Then, there was a shadow over her papers, that indicated something was behind her, blocking the light. The hairs on her neck began to stand, as she felt a breathe on her ear. She closed her eyes for a moment, hoping that whoever it was, would go away. Then, she felt something by her ear and heard a familar voice whispering.

"You know, it's rude not to eat with your guest."

Bulma slowly turned around. "What do you want?"

"I was bored," Vegeta stated with a smirk. "I needed some entertainment."

"Believe me," Bulma assured him, "you won't find this science stuff entertaining."

Bulma turned back to her work. Vegeta sat next to her, looking over her shoulder at what she was reading, breathing down her neck.

"Please don't do that," Bulma pleaded in a whisper.

"Do I make you nervous?" came a low whisper.

Bulma turned to her papers, though no longer reading them. She was just waiting for him to leave.

"Are you sure you can trust me?" Vegeta asked, still looking over her shoulder.

"Did I ever trust you?"

"You trusted me to be on your side. But you'll see."

"Don't you have some training to do? You find that entertaining, don't you?"

Vegeta rose and stood behind her. Bulma, expecting him to leave, went back to work. Then she felt cold hands on her shoulders as he put his face next to her's. "I've found my entertainment," he stated in a firm whisper.

Bulma's eyes widened for a moment and she let her breathe escape from her. "You've had your fun," she said in a shaky whisper, "now can you go?"

"Oh, no. I'm just getting started."

"You want me to finish this, don't you?"

"You can finish it with me here."

"No I can't!"

"Why not?"

"Because...because you make me nervous."

Vegeta let his hands slide from her shoulders down her arms. "I thought so," he whispered.

"You don't scare me," Bulma stated firmly.

"But I make you nervous?"

"It's not contradicting! I can be nervous without being scared!"

"I never said you were being contradictoring. You came up with that on your own."

His hands slid down her arms, and he gripped her hands, "But I do think you're scared of me."

Bulma turned, forcing herself to face him. She narrowed her eyes, letting him know she wasn't going to run away. "What makes you think that?"

Vegeta, still gripping her right hand, swung her around out of her seat and pinned against a wall, her hands above her head. Using one hand to hold her in place, he let the other slowly run down her arm.

Bulma shivered. She looked up at Vegeta, who was glaring into her eyes. He was toying with her and she was helpless to stop him. His cold stare weighed her down and froze her in place as she felt that icey hand gliding down her arm. She was shaking in fear. This unpredictable monster had her cornered.

She tried with what strength she had to hold back the tears, but she let a single one escape. She felt the hot tear rolling down her cold cheeks, and it burned. It burned to know he saw right through her.

His index finger touched her cheek and gently wiped the tear away. He placed his finger to his lips, licking the salty liquid that had betrayed her. His stare remained cold, and his face expressionless. "That's why," he stated simply, releasing her. He left the room as Bulma sunk to the floor.

"And onna," he said, stopping in the doorway, "if the enemy knows your fears, he knows enough." With that, he left.

Bulma took in a breathe, determined not to let anymore tears escape. She took deep breathes, trying to calm herself and stop from shaking.

"You ready to get back...is something wrong?" Her father had just entered the room.

"No," Bulma said in a firm voice, "I'm fine. Let's get back to work."

"Okay," her father nodded, knowing something had just happened.

Bulma rose to finish the training droids for the house guest. She wasn't sure if she was doing the right thing. Should she be helping the enemy?


	5. Vegeta Is Definately Not Human

Chapter 5 - Vegeta Is Definately Not Human

Bulma kept silent as she hurridly worked out plans for the new training droids.

"Is something wrong?" her father asked once again.

Bulma shook her head, keeping it down so her expression wouldn't worry her father.

"I saw Vegeta leaving as I came in. What were you two discussing?"

Bulma stopped for a moment at the mention of the Prince's name. "Nothing." she said in a light whisper.

"Now come on, Bulma. I'm your father. If there's something going on, I deserve to know."

Bulma stopped once again and faced her father. "I'd rather not talk about it," she said, trying to sound convincing. "Vegeta was just being himself. He's a jerk and a baka and an arrogant baka jerk and..." she trailed off, muttering things under her breathe.

"He intimidates you, huh?" her father asked, suddenly, daring to press the subject.

Bulma threw down her pencil, "So what if he does! Everyone else is intimidated by him - why not me? Why do I have to be different!"

"Well, maybe he's never had anybody stand up to him. You know, get him back at his own game. But I can see why, he's dangerous."

Bulma rolled her eyes as she nodded in agreement - he was dangerous. "I just don't get why he does it," Bulma wondered, mostly to herself.

"Maybe there's more to him than he lets on," her father suggested, raising an eyebrow, "He's been ordered around all his life and is used to people fearing him. But deep down, maybe there's somebody different trying to escape. Maybe he grieves for his planet, his people."

Bulma digested her father's words as she pondered them over. Then she shook up her head, laughing hystericaly. "That would almost make him a human being - which he is not!" At her weird joke, that only she seemed to get the humor in, she kept laughing, picking up her pencil and getting back to work once again.

Bulma started to hum to herself, trying to lighten the mood. She felt different all of a sudden. She couldn't figure out what it was, or why she felt like that, but she did just the same. And the weird thing was, it just came suddenly. She shook it off, and continued her project.

Bulma told her father what she had been observing earlier about the new droids. They discussed it over and came up with a shaky plan. They started to draw up the plans, having to start over more than once. But never the less, they kept on working.

Bulma glanced up at the clock, which read 7:45. "Oh, Kami!" Bulma shouted, "I'm suppose to meet Yamcha in fifteen mintues! I haven't eaten and I'm a mess and..."

"Well, naming all these things off aren't going to make time go back, now is it," her dad pointed out.

Bulma smiled, "I know, I know. We'll continue this tomorrow. I think we could both use a break, anyway."

Her father nodded in agreement, "I'm going for some food. Have a nice time and relax a little, okay?"

Bulma nodded, "Don't worry, I will."

Bulma started to hurridly put everything in order when her dad stopped her. "I've got this," he stated, "go get ready."

Bulma grinned, "Thank you. I'll see you in the morning."

With that, Bulma dashed out of her father's lab and ran for her room, throwing off her lab coat in the process. She ran into her bathroom, quickly splashing her face with water to freshen herself up a bit. She quickly ran a brush through her hair and threw it up into a ponytail. "I guess it's a good thing we're not going anywhere fancy," she commented to herself.

She heard the doorbell ring. She quickly swung open the door to her closet and grabbed a pair of sandals. She hopped to the door as she put one sundal on with one hand, opening her bedroom door with the other. Surprisingly enough, standing in the doorway was none other than the Saiyan Prince. Startled, Bulma fell back on her butt, in the process of putting a sandal on one foot, holding the other in her other hand. When she looked up and her mind registered who it was, her eyes narrowed.

She quickly rose to her feet, still gripping one sandal in her left hand, "What do you want, Vegeta? I'm running late!"

Vegeta remained with his stoic expression and answered her question with a lack of emotion that sent a chill down Bulma's spine. "Are the training droids finished?"

"What? You expect them to be done now?" Bulma clenched her fists in anger, "No, they're not finished! I'll finish them tomorrow! I'm going out tonight and taking a break from this house and from you!"

"You will stay here and you will finish those droids tonight."

Bulma, feeling a bit brave at that particular moment, decided not to back down. She took a step forward and narrowed her eyes even further. "I am going out tonight," she said in a low and calm voice, "and you will not stop me."

"You don't know what you're up against, woman," Vegeta stated in the same tone.

"Sure I do - I'm up against a rude good for nothing stuck up Prince of a dead race." Bulma immediately covered her mouth, knowing she should have kept that comment to herself. Fear overcame her as Vegeta advanced towards her.

"I'm sorry," Bulma whispered, taking a step back. "I shouldn't have said that about your race."

Vegeta continued towards her, "Oh, the comment doesn't phase me one bit. I could care less about my race."

Bulma continuing to step back, managed to get out a comment, "I don't believe that."

Vegeta, still walking towards her, chuckled lightly as if amused by her, "You think I'd lie?" He took another step forward, "You will stay here and you will finish those droids."

"Bulma!" they both heard Bulma's mother calling for her, "Yamcha's here!"

Bulma looked Vegeta straight in the eyes as she hollared back down, "Tell him I'll be right down!"

"So you're going out with that baka?"

"He's not a baka, Vegeta." Bulma whispered.

"Why do you always go out with him?" Though he was asking a question, his face showed no curiosity. Almost as if he was trying to get Bulma to think herself.

"It's what boyfriends and girlfriends do."

"What makes him your boyfriend."

Bulma backed right into the wall. "We have feelings for each other."

"But you don't love him."

"What do you mean I don't love him! I've dated him for over ten years! Yes, I love him!"

"No, you don't," Vegeta whispered, still expressionless.

Bulma was feeling confused all of a sudden. How could he be so sure what she felt? She was starting to feel like she wasn't so sure herself, anymore. What was he doing to her mind? Her eyes began to fill with tears, "And what do you know about love!" she shouted.

"I know you don't love him."

"You can't just go making assumptions about me when you don't even know who I am!"

"Oh, but I do," Vegeta whispered, leaning against the wall by placing his hands on either side of Bulma so that he was face to face with her, "I know you better than you know yourself," he continued in a darker tone.

"But...I...I..." Bulma's eyes fell to the floor. She couldn't think straight. Did she love Yamcha? Of coarse she did! "I'm going," she whispered. She went to leave, but found herself trapped between Vegeta's arms.

"You have nowhere to go," Vegeta stated simply.

"Stop it!" Bulma yelled at him, raising her shoe. Before she could bring it down, Vegeta grabbed her wrist and smashed her against the wall.

"Getting violent, are we?"

"Let me go!"

Bulma found herself spun around by her wrist and in the next instant, she landed painfully on the floor. Enraged, she threw her sandal at Vegeta, "Leave me alone you jerk!"

Vegeta caught the sandal, still with his stoic expression. He knelt down, glaring into her eyes. "You're going too far, woman. You better start behaving before you find yourself in some serious trouble."

Bulma swallowed hard, trying to stop herself from shaking.

"No matter how hard you try Miss Brief, you'll always fear me." Bulma shivered at the 'Miss Brief' part and couldn't get herself to say anything in response.

"Bulma!" her mother called.

Vegeta slid Bulma's other sandal on her left foot. "You can go with him, or you can go back to your lab. But if pass that lab, you'll regret it." With that, Vegeta got up and left.

Bulma shook her head, and caught her breathe. She straightened herself out and slowly walked down the stairs, feeling a bit dizzy.

As she entered her living room, Yamcha rose from the couch. "You finally ready? You know, maybe I should have told you seven, then maybe you'd be ready by now."

Bulma tried to smile, but with no success, "Listen, Yamcha, I.."

"Wow! You look great Bulma,"

Bulma shook her head, almost in tears, "No, I don't. I'm a mess."

Yamcha, noticing there was something wrong, put an arm around her, "Hey, what's the matter?"

"Nothing," Bulma said, trying to sound strong.

"Let's go for that walk," Yamcha whispered, "I think some fresh air will do you some good."

Bulma shook her head, "I can't. I have to..."

"Come on. You'll feel better once you're outside. You sound like you could use someone to talk to, anyway."

Bulma nodded, "Okay," she whispered, "Let's go."

With that, they were headed for the door. Bulma felt a chill run down her spine as they walked passed the lab and out the doors.

Bulma felt a cool breeze run through her hair as they stepped outside. She breathed a sigh as they began walking down the road.

"Feeling better?" Yamcha asked.

"Mmm hmmm" Bulma nodded, "It's so beautiful out."

They walked into the city park, where there weren't as many lights and the stars seemed to be brighter. As they walked down a small path, Bulma shivered a bit from the night air.

"You cold?" Yamcha asked.

Bulma nodded, "A little, but I'll be fine."

Yamcha wrapped an arm around Bulma's shoulder. "Better?" he asked.

Bulma rested her head on his shoulder as they continued to walk, "Yeah," she replied, "much better."

They walked for a while in silence, just enjoying each other's company. The light wind sent freshness flowing in the air that was lit up with fire flies and such. Yamcha led Bulma to a bench and they sat, Yamcha still having his arm around her.

"You seemed a little stressed today," Yamcha pointed out, "You wanna talk."

"I'm fine." Bulma stated.

"You know you can tell me anything."

Bulma knew he was right and she did need to get out some of her feelings before she really did go crazy.

"It's Vegeta," she sighed.

"Thought so," Yamcha answered.

"He's just so...I don't know...he says things..."

"Like what?"

Bulma paused, "I don't know...he tries to get me to question myself. Like he knows me, but I don't."

"That's just crazy."

"I know, but sometimes I find that...that I believe what he says." Bulma's eyes turned to the ground.

"Don't let him get to you, Bulma. You're stronger than that. Whatever he's telling you...it's not true."

"Then why would he say it?"

"He's a sick man, Bulma. He's just looking for some entertainment and decided to play some mind games on you."

Bulma thought about it for a moment. "No, I think he just wants some attention. I mean...oh, I don't know. I just think that maybe he's looking for someone to talk to, but just doesn't know how to go about the right way of doing it. He's been through so much..."

"Bulma," Yamcha looked at her, "be careful, okay? Don't go asking him a bunch of questions to try and figure him out. He's dangerous. Once the androids are destroyed, he can go back into space or something and leave us all in peace."

"Yeah," Bulma said to Yamcha in a sigh, but in her mind, she was still debating whether she should try and figure him out.

"Bulma," Yamcha paused, "I love you."

Bulma looked at Yamcha and smiled. She opened her mouth to reply, but found she couldn't get the words out. She wasn't sure anymore of anything. "Darn that Vegeta!" Bulma screamed in her mind.

"Bulma? Are you alright."

"I love you too," Bulma said in a fast sentence, grinning in her victory, but couldn't totaly claim it, for her mind was still saying something else.

Yamcha smiled and gave her a peck on the cheek.

Bulma entered the house, to find it completely silent and dark. She turned on the light switch and jumped in surprise to find Vegeta sitting at the kitchen table.

"You scared me," she explained, trying to catch her breathe. "What are you still doing up?"

Vegeta didn't even move his head to face her, he just kept staring at the wall.

"Vegeta?" Bulma asked in curiosity. When he still didn't look up at her, Bulma got an eerie feeling in the pit of her stomach. She wasn't sure what to do. She slowly approached him, fear running through her with each step.

Suddenly, Vegeta was up and right in front of her, grabbing a hand full of curly blue hair.

Bulma cried out in pain as he threw her to the ground.

"I told you to stay here," he growled.

"I'm sorry but I had to talk with Yamcha. I can't be here all the time, Vegeta."

Bulma felt fear sweep over her as Vegeta disappeared from her sight. She sat up, her eyes franticly searching for him.

She gasped when he appeared right in front of her on the ground. "You will never disobey me again," he growled. He rose his hand.

Bulma closed her eyes tightly, waiting for it to come down. This time it did, and she went flying across the floor. She layed in fear, not daring to get up. She felt her cheek on fire, but then it went numb.

She felt herself being lifted up by someone grabbing her shoulders. She felt herself pressed against a wall and slowly opened her eyes to find them staring right in the dark, cold eyes of the Saiyan Prince.

"You understand?" he growled, once again grabbing her hair and pulling it.

Bulma nodded, ignoring the pain.

"Outloud!" Vegeta yelled, pulling her hair tighter, causing her to yell in pain.

"Yes," she gasped.

"Alright then," Vegeta whispered, loosening his grip on her hair, running his hand through it. He glided it down her cheek. She winced at the pain in her cheek.

Vegeta's hand swept down her neck. "Don't foget," he said back in normal dark tone, "I'd hate for another bruise to appear on that pretty face." With that, his hand glided down her arm, as he stared intently into her eyes. He stepped closer to her so that their noses barely touched. Bulma couldn't stop herself from trembling from the uneasiness.

"Am I the enemy?" Vegeta asked in an icy tone that caused Bulma's legs to give way, sliding down a bit. Vegeta grabbed her shoulders and held her up, "Cause I know all I need to know," he said under his breathe, but Bulma could her him due to their closeness. His hot breath on her lips sent her body shaking in fear.

Vegeta, then, let her drop to the floor. He began walking out of the room. "Finish the droids," he demanded, not even looking back. Bulma just nodded, though she knew he couldn't see her response.


	6. Mysterious Wants

POSSESSION  
Chapter 6 - Mysterious Wants

Bulma put on the coffe pot in her father's lab. She knew she wouldn't be able to get any sleep that night. She sat at the round table and began working on the training droids Vegeta had so nicely asked her to make.

"Yeah, right," she muttered to herself as she gently placed a hand on her right cheek. She winced at the pain her gesture had caused. She didn't even want to look in the mirror. She knew it would just put her in a worse mood.

Bulma tried making her way around the table as she corrected the plans on the huge piece of paper. There was just so much stuff in the way. She couldn't wait for the new labs to get done. Her father had a new building built outside the house so that way an accident wouldn't cause any harm to the rest of the house. She had been working in her father's lab because all her equipment was already packed away. The lab being outside might help her avoid Vegeta.

Bulma frowned as she erased a certain part of her diagram. She didn't like having to hide from the Saiyan Prince. This was, after all, her house. Bulma redid the part of the diagram she had just erased. What could be done about Vegeta? Not much - he was alot stronger than she was. Physically, anyway. She had a strong mind, though lately she had been questioning her mental state.

Bulma poured herself another cup of coffee as she examined her diagrams. She smiled in triumph, but soon frowned again as the movement in her face caused her right cheek to burn with pain.

Kami, why'd he have to hit her? She just wanted some time out to be with a friend. Why was he so...so...dominating? Bulma took another sip of coffee and laid back in her chair.

"Time for a break," she thought to herself. She decided to give her eyes a short rest...which turned into a deep slumber.

Bulma woke with a start, realizing she had fell asleep.

"About time you woke up."

Bulma looked up to see her father building away. She gave a faint smile, trying to hide her confusion, anger, and...and fear.

"I see you've got these new training droids figured out," her father commented.

"Yeah," Bulma yawned, stretching her arms into the air, "I finished the plans last night. Are you working on them now?"

Dr. Brief nodded, "But I need you to do the programming."

Bulma smiled as she poured herself a fresh cup of coffee. She, then, ventured across the lab to seat herself at the computer.

"That's quite a mark on your face," her father commented.

Bulma froze. Did he know? "I, uh, was working on a project and I fell. I must have been half asleep or something."

Dr. Brief raised an eyebrow, questioning her response. He decided to just drop the subject and continue working.

Bulma began typing away at the computer, wondering why she had just lied to her father.

"I'm going to get some breakfast. You coming?"

Bulma shook her head, pretending to be more absorbed in her programming.

Her father grinned a bit as he left the room.

Bulma sighed as she turned back to the computer. She began typing away again, but her mind was wondering to a concept she hadn't dwelled upon before.

Did she love Yamcha? "Of coarse I do!" she told herself, as if doubting it were forbidden. But was she just deluding herself?

He was a good friend, but there many times that he seemed annoyed by her. Not to mention the fact, he didn't trust her. But they had been together for ten years...surely that counts for something!

Bulma smiled as she remembered 'the good old days.' She laughed outloud as her mind wondered back to when she had first met Goku. He knew nothing of the world outside his little cottage. He was always so confused and asking weird questions. She yelled a lot, and he never could understand her ways, or the ways of any civilized human being for that matter. He was so innocent.

Bulma continued typing as she remembered meeting Yamcha. He was so shy around girls then. By the time their adventure was over, though, he and herself found joy in the other's company. He even went back to the city with her, though their relationship was off and on from there on. Yamcha never trusted her, and she was always jealous of all the girls that would hang around him.

Bulma sighed once again. "But do I love him?" she wondered outloud. She heard a smirk from behind her. Bulma froze and took in a breathe. She bit the bottom of her lip, as she went back to her typing.

"What do you want?" she asked, not even turning around.

"You'd be surprised," he said in a low voice.

Bulma stopped typing, wondering for a moment what his last remark had meant. She began typing again, deciding to just shrug it off. There was no figuring out a Saiyan.

"How are the droids coming along?" the dark voice asked her.

"I'm working on them now," Bulma stated, still not turning to face him.

"How long?"

"I could have them done by tonight," she said quickly.

"This afternoon."

"What?"

"You will have them done by this afternoon."

"That's impossible!" Bulma exclaimed quite louder than she had intended to, "I mean," she continued, lowering her voice, "I've got them all planned out, but there's a lot to do with building them."

"You'll get it," he answered simply,

Bulma stopped typing once again. Did he just give her a compliment?

"I always get what I want," he continued, Bulma now realizing he wasn't trying to compliment her. But she couldn't help but shudder when she thought about the comment he had just made moments ago about what he wanted and connected it with his new statement.

What did he want?

"Alright," Bulma sighed, "I'll see what I can do."

She could barely hear the footsteps as he stood behind her.

"No," he whispered in her ear, placing an icy hand on her shoulder, "you WILL have it done."

Bulma tried to protest, but found all she could do was nod.

"Outloud."

"Yes," she whispered.

"Face me."

Bulma shook her head, knowing that she'd just break down. When she refused to obey, he took the chair and swung it around so she was facing him. She quickly put her head down so that her hair would cover her face.

"Look up at me, woman." His voice low and stern.

Bulma shook her head once again.

Vegeta knelt in front of her, his eyes narrowing. He lifted her chin with a single finger and used his other hand to brush the hair away from her right cheek. He looked hard at the black and blue mark that had formed on her cheek. He lightly ran a finger over it, as if curious about it.

Though his touch was light, it caused pain and Bulma jerked her head away from him.

"Hold still, woman."

"No!" she shouted, trying to get up, but Vegeta pulled her back down in her chair. "Just leave me be!" she shouted, trying to claw him with her nails so she could get away. "Haven't you done enough?"

Vegeta grabbed her hands and held them down as he grabbed her chin with his free hand. He turned her head slightly, examining the bruise once again. "Shut up, woman," he commanded, still looking at the wound, "and stop fidgeting!" He ran his thumb down her cheek, peering right through her.

"That hurts, Vegeta! You hurt me! You hurt me...and I hope you go to hell for it!" Bulma was beyond angry. She was going crazy. Was he making her insane? She must have been part way there in the first place to have even invited him to stay with her. She continued her struggle against him, though knowing it would be useless.

"I'm going to hell, woman," he said in a dark, emotionless tone, "but it's for far worse things than a small slap."

Bulma stopped her struggles in shock. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to look at him, though he had her head turned. He let go of her hands and again, began running a finger down her cheek.

His grip on her chin loosened, so she turned to face him. He wasn't looking her in the eyes as he normally did, for he still had some odd facination with her wound. Bulma slowly rose her hand and lightly placed it on his face.

Vegeta's head immediately turned to face her, but there was no look of shock on his face. In fact, he was completely stoic.

As his eyes went right through her's, she could feel her hand tremble on his cheek. Now feeling uncomfortable, Bulma slowly removed her hand and her eyes fell to the floor.

"Hmmmph," was Vegeta's response as he got up and left the room.

Bulma was half tempted to follow him, but knew she had to get to work. He'd probably get violent, anyway. Bulma turned around and faced her computer once again and continued typing, though now, her mind was wondering a million different places. Now she was more determined than ever to find out what went on inside that head of his.

Later, her father joined her once again to help get the droids built. "Funny," he stated, lighting up a cigarette, "Vegeta wasn't at breakfast." Dr. Brief raised an eyebrow at Bulma's uneasiness, "and he wasn't in the GR, either."

Bulma continued with her typing.

"What'd you two talk about?" he asked her.

Bulma stopped for a moment. "He wants the training droids done by noon," she simply stated, then continued on with her work.

Dr. Brief nodded, then went on with his work as well.

Some silence passed on as the two scientist concentrated on the task before them. They both knew that their attempt was impossibe, but Bulma was suddenly feeling inspired. She wasn't sure why, but she wanted to finish the droids by the deadline that had been set before her - but it wasn't out of fear. Could she possibly be seeking to prove herself to Vegeta? Why on Chinkyuu-sei would she want to do that?

Bulma decided not to dwell on it any longer. She had to get this done, and she only had a few hours left. Her fingers flew faster across the keys as she quickly programmed a chip. Her father was moving with great speed, also. Neither of them stopped for longer than three minutes - and that was just to get a cup of coffee to keep their energy flowing.

Bulma looked up at the clock. 10:00 a.m. She had two hours! There was still so much programming to do! How was she going to get this done in two hours? She glaned over at her father, who seemed to be thinking the same thing. They both began moving faster, trying to make the impossible possible.

Bulma quickly ran the math through her head, trying not to stop and dwell on calculations as her hands swiftly moved across the bottons that commanded the program. Her wrists were starting to ache terribly and her fingers were going numb, but she was determined not to stop. She kept on typing, and time kept on passing.

Bulma bit down on her bottom lip as she finished the fast few lines with much pain flowing through her hands. She quickly hit the 'save' button as she jumped up and glaned at the clock.

11:43 a.m. "How are the training droids coming along?" Bulma asked her father as she typed in a command that would download the information to a small disk.

"I just finished the last one."

Bulma tapped her foot, waiting for the download to be completed. They've come too far to fall behind now. She waited...and waited...and waited...Kami! What was taking it so long!

Just then, the computer flashed a message telling her it had been complete. She quickly told it to make four other disks as she glanced up at the clock.

11:56 a.m. She bit her bottom lip as she took the first disk over to where her father had been working. She quickly, but cautiously, opened the board where the main circuits were and carefully placed the disk into it. She closed it and looked up. One down, four to go. Her father had already gotten the next disk and was inserting it into another droid. She ran over and waited for the next one to be done.

Bulma carefully opened the compartment of the last droid and inserted the tiny disk. She heard footsteps outside the lab. She flipped a tiny switch on to activate the chip using a small tool. The footsteps were getting louder. 11:59 a.m.

Then, the door swung open as Bulma closed the circuit compartment. "Done!" she shouted with joy.

She glanced at the clock, which had just turned to 12:00 p.m. Bulma's lips curved up into a huge grin. Victory! She turned to where Vegeta had entered the room and flashed him a smile. "They've been completed!"

Vegeta's eyes narrowed at her and his face remained stern. He slowly walked to her and stopped just inches away. Then, he did nothing. He just stared at her. His dark eyes betrayed nothing but a cold stare that had Bulma almost in tears.

"Bring them to the Gravity Room," he ordered in a dark tone.

Bulma glanced up at him for a second in fear, but decided not to betray it. "You're a big boy - do it yourself." She didn't yell, just stated it in a firm voice.

"Woman," Vegeta growled, "bring the droids to the Gravity Room." He glanced over at Dr. Brief, who was looking concerned about his daughter. Then, Vegeta's eyes turned back to her's. "now."

"Okay," Bulma said, "but only because I don't feel like arguing with you right now. Next time, I might not be so nice." She knew she had given in, but she had to make it look like she had given it some sort of fight.

She gathered the droids in her arms and walked to the GR, followed by Vegeta. They entered the chamber and Bulma set the droids on the ground. Vegeta stopped a few feet into the room. Bulma rose and immediately felt his gaze burying into her. She felt like he was searching for something inside her. Fear ran through her, for she didn't know exactly what it was he was searching for...and she didn't know if he had found it yet. He wanted something...

Bulma slowly turned. "Just press the red botton," she said quietly as Vegeta approached her, "and they'll start right up."

Vegeta stopped in front of her, just staring. Then, in one quick flash, he had her pinned up against the wall.

Deja Vu.

Bulma paniced, wondering if he was going to get violent again. Then, she found his body pressed against her own.

"Don't you EVER refuse my orders again," he said in a low tone that was filled with venom. If at all possible, he moved closer to her and brushed his lips against her ear. "Understand?"

Bulma's breathing was out of control. The heat off his body was making her panic and she didn't know what to do. She felt so helpless.

"Woman..." she felt the word on her ear.

"I...I understand," she said in a hoarse breath.

"Good." Vegeta moved his face in front of her's. He stared at her, his eyes narrowing. He slowly raised his hand and let his index finger slide down her right cheek. She winced at the pain that flew through her face.

He stroked her cheek again, ignoring her painfully reactions. "Now go and leave me," he growled.

He stepped away from her, Bulma immediately feeling a chill run over her body from the cold air. She quickly left, not looking back.

Bulma went straight to her room. She took a few breathes and decided to look at the more positive side - she was finished with the training droids! And in record time! It felt great! She had accomplished what was impossible...but would she have even attempted it if...

Bulma shook the thought from her head. She decided to take the rest of the afternoon off. In fact, she was going out! Bulma flopped down on her bed and picked up her phone to dial a familar number.

"Hey, Chi Chi?"

"Yes?" came the young mother's voice.

"This is Bulma. What are you doing tonight."

Chi Chi's voice immediately changed to anger. "I'm stuck here alone because Goku took off with Gohan and that Jolly Green Giant to train. Honestly! I won't stand for this any longer! When they get home..."

"They are training to save the world, Chi Chi."

"THAT'S NO EXCUSE! Gohan's going to fall behind in his studies. Then how's he going to get into college? Just put that he saved the world on his application and hope they accept him? I don't think so! Something MUST be done!"

Bulma giggled to herself. That was Chi Chi alright. "Chi Chi, I was wondering if you wanted to go out for lunch or something. We haven't seen each other in a while, so I thought we could catch up."

Chi Chi's tone changed once again. "That sounds very nice, Bulma. How about you come over to my house and I'll fix lunch."

Bulma grinned to herself. "Figures," she thought, "Chi Chi won't go some place that will have somebody else cooking for HER."

"That sounds great, Chi Chi," Bulma chuckled. "I'll head over there now and help prepare the food."

"Okay...and Bulma?"

"Yeah, Chi Chi?"

"Thanks. I really do need the company."

Bulma smiled, "So do I. See you in a while."

Bulma hung up the phone feeling a bit more cheerful. Chi Chi's cooking...getting out of the house...visiting an old friend...getting away from Vegeta...She really was going to enjoy herself this afternoon...


	7. A Moment to Relax

POSSESSION  
Chapter 7 - A Moment to Relax

Bulma arrived at the humble Son home to be greeted by a cheerful Chi Chi.

"Hi, Bulma! I was so happy you could make it! Come in and sit down!"

"Thanks!" Bulma exclaimed as she put her flying vehicle in its capsule and followed Chi Chi into the house.

Bulma helped Chi Chi prepare lunch, which consisted of a great recipe for chicken stir fry. It took longer than it should have, as the two were goofing off here and there and asking each other a ton of questions. Finally, they sat down to eat their creation.

"Bulma, can I ask you a question?"

"Shoot," Bulma replied, taking a bite of stir fry.

"Where did you get that bruise? I mean, under all that make up it's hardly noticable, but it's still there, just the same," Chi Chi asked in a worried tone.

"Well," Bulma began. Chi Chi was a good friend of her's. They didn't always get along, but they were best friends, none the less. Should she tell her? But if word got back to Goku that Vegeta was abusing her...

"I was working on a project in the lab when I tripped and fell," Bulma lied, once again for Vegeta.

"Oh," was Chi Chi's reply, "Has Vegeta been behaving himself?" she asked as if she already knew the answer...and could put two and two together.

"He spends all his time in the gravity room, so I hardly ever see him," Bulma stated, getting a little nervous when she realized Chi Chi was trying to catch her lie. She faked a smile and continued eating. "So, how's Gohan? I'm sure he's grown a lot!"

"My Gohan is growing up so fast!" Chi Chi smiled, but her smile faded as she added, "but I hardly get to see him. Goku is always training him.

"Oh. Well, don't worry too much about him, Chi Chi. Goku will take good care of him."

"But he needs to be home! Not preparing to save the world! It just isn't right...especially for a boy his age!"

"You're right," Bulma agreed, "If I was in your position, I'd be just as worried. But, I've also known Goku for most of my life...and I trust him."

"I trust him, too," Chi Chi explained, her eyes starting to water, "but I still can't help but worry! I mean that big green guy tried to kill Goku and then he kidnaps Gohan from me...how do I know he won't try something else?" Chi Chi buried her face in her hands and her shoulders began to shake with sobs, "I'm so scared."

Bulma got up and kneeled next to Chi Chi, placing a hand on her shoulder. "We're all scared, Chi Chi," she whispered, "but don't let fear stand in your way. I don't know if you've noticed or not...but Piccolo has grown attached to Gohan."

Chi Chi looked up at her, her eyes red from tears. "What do you mean?" she asked, wiping her face with the back of her hand.

"I mean, that year he took Gohan away from you...he's grown bonded to him. He's also become very protective of him...I mean he sacrificed his own life to save Gohan from Nappa!"

"I never knew that," Chi Chi said with surprise.

Bulma smiled, "During that one year, Gohan became Piccolo's only friend. Gohan changed him. He turned a bad guy into one of the good guys..."

Chi Chi smiled, "Well, that just proves he's Goku's son."

Both girls giggled.

"Thanks, Bulma." Chi Chi sighed.

Bulma smiled, accepting her thanks. Then, her smile faded as an unwanted memory ran through her mind.

"What's wrong, Bulma?" Chi Chi asked.

"Chi Chi, can I ask you a question?"

"Go ahead."

"How did you know that you were...you know...'in love' with Goku."

Chi Chi's eyes widened. "Well," she began, "I'm not sure. I just knew he was the one. There were no doubts...I just...I just knew."

Bulma nodded, excepting the broad explanation.

"Why?" Chi Chi asked, then her eyes widened once again, "Are you having doubts about Yamcha?"

"I'm not sure," Bulma stated, mostly to herself.

"But Bulma, you've been dating since you were kids!"

"I know, I know. But sometimes I wonder if that's a bad thing. I mean, there are other fish in the sea..."

"Bulma, do you realize what you're saying?"

"No, I don't," Bulma whispered, "I'm so confused."

"Let's go in the other room and talk. I'll make you some tea."

Bulma nodded, holding back tears.

Bulma sat on the rug on the floor and Chi Chi entered with two cups of tea, sitting next to her friend.

"Is there somebody else?" Chi Chi asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No...I mean...I...I don't think so...I don't get out much anymore...I mean, the only other man I really know is Veg..." Bulma stopped, not being able to complete the thought.

"Vegeta," Chi Chi finished for her.

"Yeah, him." Bulma nodded, anger in her voice, "but I'm smarter than that! I would never fall for an arrogant jerk like Vegeta."

Chi Chi, nodded, agreeing with her.

"Right," Bulma stated, as if trying to convince herself, "he's a rude and evil man and I would never fall for him...never!"

Chi Chi eyed her suspicously, but just nodded. She decided it was time to change the subject.

"So, how's the project going?"

"Huh?"

"You said you were working on a project in the lab."

"Oh, yeah. That project...um...I was making some training droids for Vegeta."

"So indirectly it was his fault," Chi Chi giggled.

But Bulma couldn't bring herself to laugh, "Yeah, indirectly," she repeated to herself.

She took a sip of tea, wondering to herself why she insisted on lying for Vegeta.

"I mean," Chi Chi dared to press the subject further, "if Vegeta were to directly come out and hit you, you'd have more than a bruise on your cheek."

"What do you mean?" Bulma asked, tilting her head slightly.

"Well, after Goku came back in that space pod, we had an arguement about Gohan and his studies. He was trying to brighten the mood...you know Goku...anyway, he went to give me a pat on the back and I went flying through the house right smack into a tree!"

"Woah! You never told me that!"

"Well, he never meant to do it - he just doesn't know his own strength. He was just trying to give me a light, friendly pat on the back." Chi Chi looked up from her tea, "If a Saiyan like Goku or Vegeta meant to hurt one of us, they could do it easily. Very easily...and without even meaning to, they'd leave a much bigger mark than a dark bruise."

"So what you're saying," Bulma concluded, "is that what seems like a violent hit in the face, could just really be a light slap that got out of hand."

"Yeah, I guess," Chi Chi shrugged.

Bulma's eyes narrowed as she sank into deep thought, "I see," she finally whispered. "Come on," she said, finally getting up, "I'll help you clean the kitchen."

"Alright," Chi Chi smiled.

Bulma and Chi Chi spent the remainder of their peaceful afternoon doing dishes and cleaning up. They laughed and compared stories about how the year had been passing by.

The afternoon came to an end and evening was soon approaching, signaling it was time for Bulma to say goodbye and head for her home, much to her regret.

Bulma arrived home just in time to see the sun sinking beneath the horizon. She put her vehicle in its capsule and glanced over the way of the gravity room, which was up and running. Bulma smiled. If her luck continued, she wouldn't have a confrontation with Vegeta for the whole night.

Bulma went into the house, opening the fridge to make herself a glass of lemonade. It was extremely hot out. The combination of the cool air inside the house and the iced lemonade made her feel a whole lot better.

"Hello, Bulma dear! I'm so glad you're back! You're father has a surprise for you!" Bulma turned to see her mother smiling.

"A surprise?"

"Yep. You're suppose to meet him in his lab."

Bulma headed straight for her father's lab in curiosity. She couldn't help but wonder what the big suprise was. She entered her father's lab to find everything in boxes.

"What's going on?" she asked, trying to find her father in the maze of boxes.

Her father stood up, revealing himself. "Our new labs are finished. It's time to move in."

Bulma smiled. She had been waiting forever for this new lab. She needed the room, the privacy, and not to mention the freedom of not having to worry about putting the whole house in danger.

"Can we go see it?" she asked, excitement evident in her voice.

Her father smiled, "I'll give you a tour."

Bulma followed her father to the back of the house where there was a new building. Her father punched a code into the keypad and the door opened. They stepped into a long, empty hall that contained five different doors. Next to one door was a glass window that showed into another room.

"This room," he opened the door to the room with the window, "is the testing room. We now have a seperate room where we can test lasers, chemicles, and other dangerous devices that might do harm. This room is designed to take different kinds of explosions and such." Her father turned to a door down a little ways.

"That's an excellent idea," Bulma smiled, excited by the thought of different inventions she would be experimenting in that room.

"This room," her father said, opening a door that led down, what seemed to be another long hallway only with shelves covering the walls, "is the storage room. There's lots of space to store excess material and chemicles. And here," he continued, pointing to a small fridge type device, "is where you store chemicles that have to be cooled. You can control it's temperature with this knob. There's another one of these down at the end."

Bulma smiled, as she followed her father out of the storage room. "And here," her father opened another door that led to a much bigger room, "is your lab," he stated, his voice echoing in the empty space. It wasn't huge, but definately bigger than her other lab and with the new storage room, she wouldn't have such a mess to deal with.

The room was white and very sterile. Long lights were on the ceiling, each controlled by a switch. Her father showed her the different commands and codes that would be used to enter each room. "And," he added, "whenever you leave here, be sure to put the security on. Not only do we not want anyone sneaking in here, we don't anyone getting hurt." Bulma nodded. It made perfect sense.

"So, what do you think?" her father asked, proudly.

"It's great!" Bulma smiled, "Couldn't get any better than this!"

They left the building and turned once more to admire it. It seemed so much smaller on the outside. Bulma noticed a generator next to the building. Her father noticed her observation, "It's so if the power goes out, we don't have to worry about the chemicles becoming too hot or too cold."

Bulma was, indeed, impressed with the planning her father put into the new building. Now she had a new place to escape to to get away from a certain Saiyan Prince.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Are you going to move in or what?" her father broke her from her thoughts.

"Not tonight," Bulma yawned, "I'm way too tired."

"I could get some of our employees to do it."

"Don't even think about it," Bulma scolded her father, jokingly, "When it comes to my inventions, I trust nobody."

"Really?"

"Well...except you of coarse," Bulma chuckled.

"Well, in that case, we'll move everything first thing in the morning."

Bulma nodded, "Sounds good to me."

"What do you plan on doing with your old lab?"

"I'm not sure...I was thinking about turning it into a giant freezer."

"Really?"

"Yeah...with a Saiya-jin staying at our house, we'll need it!"

"True," her father agreed with a nod.

Bulma sat on a chair on the deck and her father sat next to her, lighting up a cigarette and patting the cat on the head that was sitting on his shoulder. "What do you think, Kitty?"

Bulma giggled, "As long as he doesn't have to move off of your shoulder, he's content."

Her father smiled as he gazed at the sunset. Bulma glanced over in the direction of the GR, which was still running.

"He's been in there all day," her father commented, still gazing ahead of him.

"Good. Gives something else to do besides torment me," Bulma stated, a bit irritated. "He'll never change."

"Oh, I don't know. You said the same thing about Piccolo," her father pointed out.

Bulma sighed, "Piccolo's different, dad. He has a heart."

"Maybe Vegeta just has a tougher wall of protection against his. Maybe we're too quick to judge...perhaps we should just give him a chance."

Bulma rolled her eyes, "Yeah and maybe pigs really can fly...we just don't give them a chance to."

Her father laughed a bit, placing the cigarette back into his mouth and slowly getting out of his chair.

"I'm retiring for the night. See you in the morning."

"Night, dad."

"Night, Bulma. And try not to irritate him too much...you know just as well as I do how dangerous he is."

"Me? Irritate his royal highness?" Bulma asked in an innocent, yet sarcastic tone.

Her father's lips curved up into a smile, "Yes, you. I know for a fact that bruise didn't result from an accident in the lab."

Bulma's smile faded. "You're right," she sighed. "At least now with the GR and training droids done, it'll be easier to avoid him."

"Night, dear," Dr. Brief repeated.

"Night, dad."

But Bulma remained outside, watching the sun sinking into the west until it was completely dark and she could see the stars twinkling in the sky. "What a day," she whispered to herself.

In the distance, she could hear a dog barking from another yard and the sound of children playing their nightly game of "kick the can" or something of the sort. She smiled as she remembered her childhood.

Searching for the dragon balls...meeting Goku...creating some extraordinary inventions...skipping school...yelling at Yamcha...

Where did those days go? It seemed after Raditz showed up with news that Goku was an alien, everything just turned upside down. It was one thing right after another...like a chain of reactions. First Raditz, then Nappa and Vegeta, then it was off to Namek where they met the Ginyu force, making a friend with Dende, Goku fighting Freeza, Vegeta returning to earth, the mysterious boy defeating Freeza and King Kold, then the warning of the androids...which is where they stood now.

After this, what would happen next? Would this lead to another enemy? Bulma took in a deep breathe.

Bulma gazed up at the dark sky that glowed with diamonds. A shooting star soared across the sky, and Bulma closed her eyes, making a wish. A wish for at least seven years of peace after all the androids had been defeated. They could use a rest.

And where would they be after those seven years? Would she be married? Surely she would have started a family by then. Right?

Suddenly, Bulma felt alone. She always knew that her and Yamcha would never work out, but she never had the courage to admit it to herself. Now she was able to tell herself it was hopeless...and it hurt.

Bulma gazed up at the sky once again, remembering when the mysterious boy had taken off to back to where he came. She could have sworn he was waving to her. And she could almost hear him telling her, "Goodbye, young mother. May the spirits protect you."

But that was just silly. After all, he was a Saiyan. A realization hit Bulma. But it was one that was so absurd, that she quickly dismissed it.

"I need some sleep," she said to herself, getting up from her chair. She walked into the house, to find it unusually quiet. She was so used to some sort of noise, that it threw her off a bit. She decided not to waste the peace and use it to do something she hadn't done in a long while...she went and got a novel and decided to read for entertainment...not for research, but for entertainment.

Bulma curled up on the couch and turned a lamp on next to her.

Bulma threw down the romance novel, almost breaking into a hysterical laughter. The whole book was just too predictable. Normally she was a sucker for romance, but at that moment, she just wasn't in the mood for that crap! Where do author's come up with that junk, anyway?

Bulma glanced at the clock. 12:30 a.m! Had she really been reading that long? Now that her mind realized the time, her eyes began to get heavy.

Just then, the screen door opened and closed with a bang from the kitchen, causing Bulma to jump.

Bulma slowly walked into the kitchen, wondering if she should just go up to bed and before the Saiyan Prince decided to start making demands.

"Woman," came a low voice.

Too late.

"What is it, Vegeta?"

"I'm hungry."

"Alright," Bulma sighed, "Go take a shower and I'll prepare some left overs to eat."

"Hmmph." With that, Vegeta left the room.

"That was weird," Bulma noted to herself as she began to heat the contents up that were in the fridge.

Fifteen minutes later, a very hungry Saiyan emerged from the shower in a pair of black shorts and a towel around his neck. He sat down at the table, not saying a word. Bulma placed eleven plates piled with food on the table, then sat at the other end with a cup of tea.

She closed her eyes, taking in the first sip of tea. The hot liquid ran through her body, relaxing her every muscle. For a moment she had some peace. She opened her eyes to find Vegeta staring at her. When she noticed him, his eyes narrowed.

"Is there something wrong?" she asked, not being able to stand the silence any longer.

"What was that look on your face?" Vegeta asked in his same stoic, and dark tone.

"What look?"

"Like you didn't even know I was here...like you didn't even know you were here...like you were asleep."

"It's called 'relaxing,' Vegeta. You should try it sometime," Bulma replied, not sounding as sarcastic as she had meant to.

Vegeta smirked, "Teach me, woman."

"What?" Bulma's eyes widened.

"Teach me how to relax."

Bulma's eyes narrowed, as she peered at him, trying to figure out his motives. When he only seemed amused, she came to the conclusion that was the reaction he was expecting from her. So, she decided to go along with his little game.

"Alright," Bulma whispered. She got up from the table and stood behind Vegeta. She took the towel from around his neck and placed it on the back of another chair. She lightly placed her hands on his neck, which were hot due to the cup of tea she had been holding.

She ran her hands down to his shoulder and began to message her fingers into them, her thumbs pressing into his back.

"Close your eyes," she whispered in his ear.

Vegeta glared at her. Then, to her surprise, he did as she asked.

She noticed how tense he was, and he seemed only to grow more tense as her fingers ran over his shoulders. She lightly ran her finger down his neck and felt a shiver run through his body. Then, she continued messaging his shoulders until she felt the tension leave.

She, then, lightly ran her finger nails down his back and back up again. Since he was in a chair, it was hard to message his back, so she just ran her nails up and down his bare back.

She heard a soft moan, signaling that he was indeed, relaxed. She ran her hands over his shoulders and down his chest and over his stomach.

"How's that?" she whispered in his ear, again feeling a shiver run through him.

"Not bad," he smirked, his eyes still closed. Then his hands ran over her arms and he grabbed one of her hands.

He pulled her around in front of him, and he placed her in his lap. Surprised by this move, Bulma pulled her hand away.

Vegeta opened his eyes. She felt a chill run through her as a look of amusement danced in his eyes, the corner of his lip curled up into an expression of curiosity.

"Am I the enemy?" he asked of her, once again.

Again with the stupid mind games! Bulma decided it was time she had a little fun with HIS mind.

"Does it matter?" she asked in a dark tone.

Vegeta smirked once again, definately liking this new game they were playing. "I guess not," he replied.

"Good," with that, Bulma swung one leg around so she was face to face with Vegeta. She leaned forward, until her nose touched his. She was definately getting brave...

Now it was Bulma's turn to smirk as Vegeta leaned back a bit, becoming aware of their closeness.

Bulma leaned forward and whispered in his ear, "Do I scare you?" Her hand ran down his chest once again.

She heard a staggering breathe escape from him as he slowly shook his head.

Bulma put her head right up to his, her eyes narrowing, though not showing any anger.

"Outloud," she whispered in a dark and harsh tone, as her lips just barely touched his from the movement of her mouth.

She felt goosebumps forming on his arm as he just stared at her for a long moment.

"I fear nobody," he finally stated, his hot breathe dancing on her lips.

"Then I guess it's time for me to retreat from my futile attempt," she said with a slight smile as she got up.

She headed for the stairs when she felt a hand grab her arm. A bit shocked, though not fully surprise, she turned to face Vegeta.

He glared at her through dark eyes, that made Bulma's legs almost turn to jello as she found she was having a hard time standing.

Then his mouth curved up into what was almost a smile.

"We need to relax more often," he said with amusement in his voice.

Bulma's eyes narrowed. "You need to get over your fear, first," she said with that same amused tone.

Vegeta's eyes narrowed down at her, "And what fear would that be?" he said, stepping closer to her.

Bulma almost took a step back, but decided that would be too predictable, so she took one forward, now just millimeters apart.

"Yourself," she whispered.

Vegeta's eyes widened, but only slightly. She knew that wasn't the answer he was expecting. To confuse him even more, she took another step forward.

"You're scared of what you might say. Of what you might see. Of what you might hear," She ran her free hand down his arm, lightly and slowly. She brought her lips to his neck, lightly kissing him up to his ear. Then she said in a hot breathe that was barely audible, "of what you might do."

He quickly released her hand and she smiled in victory. She took a few steps back, then said in her normal voice, "Sweet dreams, my Prince."

With that, she went up the stairs, confident that she had finally won.

But little did she know that the game of possession was just now beginning...


	8. Is that Concern?

POSSESSION  
Chapter 8 – Is that Concern?

Bulma awoke the next morning with a new feeling of power. She was starting to realize that standing up to Vegeta wasn't just a simple move of not backing down, but she needed to give him a taste of his own medicine. Remembering the expression on his face before she had gone to sleep made her giggle. She had indeed accomplished that...and she found it...satisfying...but was it just from her victory?

Not wanting to dwell on that thought anymore, Bulma decided that, though it was still dark, she needed to get up and start moving things to her new lab.

So, with a stretch and a yawn, Bulma dragged herself out of bed and into the shower. After a refreshing shower, she went to the closet, looking for something suitable to wear. She would be going back and forth from the house to the new building and it was suppose to get hot out. So, she settled with a tank top and shorts. Then, she quickly put a headband in her hair, threw on a pair of sandals, and went for the kitchen.  
Her mother, who was always up early, was just beginning breakfast. If she didn't get up early, how would she prepare enough food? Her father entered the kitchen just before her and poured himself a cup of coffee. Bulma soon did the same.

"You ready to get to work?" her father asked, noticing she was awake.

"Yeah. Let's get this overwith. I want to get settled in as soon as possible."

Her father nodded and began loading some carrying device with boxes. Bulma went to the new building and waited. She heard a faint humming and turned to see that the GR was in use. "Figures," she mumbled to herself, as the loading device (i don't know what other name to give it) approached the building. She unloaded it and sent it back to the house where her father would load more stuff onto it. This system continued for a while until all the boxes were sitting in front of the new building. Then, Dr. Brief joined his daughter and they began putting the boxes in the appropriate rooms according to their labels. Some were labeled, "Bulma's Lab," some, "Dad's Lab," and others, "Storage." They took a break for breakfast, then continued working.

After a while of sorting boxes, the two were left to set up their labs. She was setting up her computer on her desk, when she heard a familar voice from outside.

"Bulma? You in here?"

Bulma went outside, to find that the sun had come up and right outside the door stood Yamcha.

"Hey, there!" she greeted.

"Your mother said you were out here," Yamcha said with a smile, "I see you finally have your new lab."

"Yeah, I'll show you around," Bulma greeted.

After a short tour of the new lab, Yamcha helped Bulma set up. Bulma found this a bit of a relief. She didn't like carrying heavy things around her lab...espcially if it was breakable. So the help was appreciated. Afterwards, Yamcha and Bulma helped Dr. Brief. The three were laughing and joking throughout the work and found that they were enjoying themselves. Afterwards, they all stepped back to admire their work.

"It didn't take as long as I thought it would," Bulma commented, glancing at her watch. It was about 11:30.

"Wanna stay for lunch?" Dr. Brief asked Yamcha, who smiled with a nod.

"That's great!" Bulma exclaimed, "We could eat outside. Like a picnic!" Her face lit up with this idea.

"That sounds nice," her father nodded, patting his kitten on the head, "well, looks like our work here is done, Kitty." The cat simply looked up at him with curious eyes.

"I'll go help mom," Bulma stated, then turned for the house.

After Bulma was gone, Yamcha turned to Dr. Brief. "Dr. Brief?"

"Yes?"

"Where'd Bulma get that bruise?"

Dr. Brief sighed, "I don't know if it's my place to say."

Yamcha looked down and sighed, "It's Vegeta, isn't it?"

Dr. Brief slowly nodded. Both turned to the direction of the GR to find that it was no longer running, which meant the Saiyan was probably breaking for some food.

Bulma entered the kitchen to find her mother being her cheery self.

"I've come to lend a hand," Bulma declared.

"Well, dear, I don't really need your hand, but you could help me with these sandwiches."

Bulma rolled her eyes and giggled a bit. "It's an expression, mother."

"Whatever you say, dear."

Bulma began making sandwiches when she realized something. "Where's Vegeta? I noticed the GR isn't running still."

"Oh, he came in muttering something about a baka human, then went to take a shower," her mother replied, heading outside with some lemonade for Dr. Brief and the young fighter.

"I guess he noticed Yamcha's here," Bulma muttered after her mother left.

"Yeah and I'd prefer you stay away from him."

Bulma turned to see a glaring Saiyan.

"What do you mean you'd prefer I stay away from him? You don't control me, Vegeta."

"Not yet."

Bulma gave a sly smile as she studied him, "Don't tell me you're jealous."

"The Saiyan Prince doesn't get jealous of baka humans."

"Then it shouldn't bother you if I see him."

"He's just a waste of time."

"I don't think so," Bulma smiled to herself as she turned to look out the window and admire her boyfriend. She heard a low growl from behind her. "What's your problem, Vegeta?"

"Don't look at him like that."

"Like what?"

"Just don't do it, woman." His cold eyes were fixed on her, and Bulma was becoming as confused as ever.

"Vegeta? Are you feeling alright?"

"I'm fine, woman."

Bulma peered at him, then turned back to the window. Her father and Yamcha were drinking the lemonade Mrs. Brief had brought out to them and she was giggling about one thing or another. Yamcha looked up from the yard and noticed her watching them. He smiled at her and she gave a small smile back and sighed. Why was she doubting their relationship so much? In the silence, Bulma forgot about Vegeta's presense, who was just watching her from his corner in the kitchen. Finally the silence was broken.

"Why do you let yourself get caught up in him?" Bulma blinked, now realizing Vegeta was still in the kitchen with her.

"I don't know," she sighed, still looking out the window.

"You know your relationship isn't going anywhere. If you don't love him, why don't you tell him?" Bulma turned, a bit surprise at the fact that Vegeta's tone actually showed curiosity. It wasn't just him teasing her, but he actually wanted to know.

"I," she paused for a moment, thinking over her words carefully, "I guess I don't want to hurt him," with that said, she turned back to the window. Was that really how she felt? Did she really only keep up her end of the relationship in fear of hurting him?

"Is such a human worth that much consideration?"

"Yes, Vegeta. Some people consider others' feelings. I know that you can't understand that, but it's there just the same," Bulma's tone was sounding more angry than she had meant to. In fact, she wasn't even sure if her anger was directed towards him...but man! Why'd he have to confuse her so much?

In a moment, she felt a hand on her shoulder and she was spun around, forced to face the Saiyan.

"You misunderstand me," he said in a dark tone. When she couldn't find herself to answer, he explained, "Is he worth so much consideration for HIS feelings that he can just cast YOUR'S aside?"

Bulma's eyes fell to the floor. Was he actually showing concern for her? Why did he always have to talk in riddles, couldn't he just come out and say why he was telling her this? She slowly looked up to see the Saiyan glaring at her. He slowly shook his head, as if in disgust, then released her and left the room.

Bulma was, to say the least, a bit startled and very confused. "What the hell was that?" her mind kept asking. "Darn him and his mind games." With that, she walked outside with the plate of sandwiches she had prepared. They all sat at the picnic table and began lunch. Well, all except for a certain prince, that is.

"So how's the training going, Yamcha?" Bulma's mother asked in her way too cheery voice.

"Okay. I've been working out at the gym and sparring here and there. I'm getting stronger. Those androids won't know what hit 'em!" Yamcha was so confident in himself.

"I wonder how Goku and the others are doing," Dr. Brief wondered outloud.

Bulma smiled, "From what I hear, they've been training a lot - and it's really irritating Chi Chi."

"Well, that's Chi Chi for ya," Yamcha commented, "she's always had a bit of a temper."

Bulma channeled out the conversation for a while to glance up at the window. Vegeta was standing inside, glaring out at all of them. What was he thinking? Why was he so angry?

"Excuse me," Bulma stated, "I'm going to bring Vegeta some sandwiches."

"Tell him to come out here," her mother suggested.

"I think he wants to be alone, mom," Bulma said, glancing back at the window. Vegeta was now gone.

Bulma walked into the kitchen with two plates of sandwiches piled on them. She set them at the table and looked around for Vegeta. She jumped a bit when she turned to find him standing right behind her.

"Don't scare me like that!"

Vegeta just smirked. He had the strangest expression on his face. He looked down at her with amusement. Bulma began to feel uncomfortable as he studied her, his eyes going down, then back up to meet with her's.

"I brought you some lunch," Bulma stuttered through her words.

"Scared, little one?"

"No."

"Then look me in the eyes."

Bulma slowly drew her gaze up to Vegeta's eyes. She shivered as amusement danced in his eyes.

"Vegeta?" Bulma whispered.

Vegeta just tilted his head a bit to show he acknowledged her.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked.

"Last night."

Bulma blushed, almost wishing the occurence had never happened.

"What about it?" she asked in a shaking voice.

"That was clever," he replied with a smirk, "I wasn't expecting it. You're catching on."

"What kind of game are you playing, Vegeta?"

"Game? I never considered it a game. I'd say it was more of a challenge."

"Why do you keep doing this?"

"I like the fear that flashes through your eyes when I do this," he said as he grabbed her waste and lightly placed her back against a wall.

Bulma gasped, wondering what he was planning on doing.

"That's the look. Right there," he said, peering at her.

"That's not funny, Vegeta."

He leaned forward and Bulma felt his hot breathe on her neck. Then, he started to whisper in her ear, "I like the way you shiver when I do this." With that said, he ran his hands over her shoulders and down her arms while nipping at her ear. Immediately, Bulma felt a shiver run through her body and she heard Vegeta chuckle, his breathe still on her neck. "Tell me, Bulma," he said as he began burying his face in her shoulder, "what are YOU thinking?"

"Please let me go."

"Not, yet."

"Vegeta, let me go now, or I'll scream."

"That'll make it more entertaining."

Bulma was becoming very uneasy. There had to be something she could do to make him let her go. She become more and more desperate for a way out as his hands once again moved to her waste.

Bulma took Vegeta's face in her hands and brought his head to her's.

"I love you," she whispered.

Startled, Vegeta released her and stepped back.

"NANI?"

Bulma couldn't help, but giggle. The more she thought about his reaction, the more funny it became. Soon, her giggles turned into laughter, which got out of control. Soon, Bulma was on the floor, holding her side.

"What's so funny!" Vegeta demanded.

"The expression...*gasp*...The expression on your face...*more laughing*...you should have seen yourself!"

Vegeta smirked, "You are a clever one, aren't you." He took one more look at her before grabbing the sandwiches and leaving the room to who knows where.

Bulma just stayed on the ground, giggling a while longer, before getting up to catch her breathe. She shook her head with a smile. She heard the door open and looked up to see Yamcha.

"Hey, hun," he greeted her with a smile.

Bulma smiled at him, "What's up?"

"Well, I thought I'd check on you." Yamcha's smile soon faded as he sat at the table. "Can we talk."

Those three words. Those are the three words any couple could ever dread. But Bulma wasn't feeling all that scared about it.

"About what?" she asked sitting next to him.

"Vegeta," he replied in a sigh.

Bulma blinked. "Darn!" she said in her mind. If he wanted to break up with her, it would make this situation easier. Wait a minute...why would he want to talk about Vegeta?

Yamcha rose a hand to Bulma's cheek and lightly touched it. The realization hit her as she flinched from the slight pain it caused her.

"Oh," Bulma whispered.

"What happened?" Yamcha asked, turning to her.

"It's not that big of a deal, Yamcha. It was an accident," Bulma whispered, trying to avoid the subject.

"Bulma, did he or did he not hit you?" Yamcha's tone was of pure concern.

Bulma sighed. "Yes...yes, he did."

"Why?"

"Remember the night we went for that walk?" Yamcha nodded. "Well," she continued, "he needed me here to do something, but I left anyway," she finished quietly.

"And you say it was an accident, why?"

Bulma took a deep breathe and let it out slowly. "I think he was just trying to scare me. I don't think he meant to actually...hurt me."

"Bulma, he's abusing you! You need to get away from him. I know, I'll call Goku and..."

"NO!" Bulma shouted, raising from the table, "he's staying here! I done told him he could stay and I'm not going back on my word! If he wants to leave, then fine! But I won't kick him out!"

Yamcha rose and started to yell, also. "Why are you protecting him? I don't care what you did, he shouldn't be treating you like this!"

Bulma glared at Yamcha, then folded her arms over her chest before letting out a deep sigh. "Yamcha, listen. I know he didn't mean it. If he were to purposely hurt me, I'd be the first to call Goku over here to kick his butt. You don't know the situation. It wasn't intended."

Yamcha looked at her carefully before giving in. "Alright. But if he lays another hand on you, I'll make sure he pays. I know I'm not strong enough to beat him, but I know Goku feels the say way. He'd come kick him out before he knew what hit him."

Bulma gave a weak smile, "Thanks," she said. Yamcha walked over to her and gave her a short kiss on the lips. There was a low growl from behind Bulma. Both Yamcha and Bulma looked up, startled that they weren't alone like they thought they were.

Vegeta gave Yamcha a glare that told him to back off. "Let me talk to the woman...alone," he demanded in a dark tone.

Yamcha glanced at Bulma, who just gave a faint smile and said, "It's okay, Yamcha. Go. I'll come out when I'm through speaking with him."

Yamcha nodded and went to the door. He looked one last time at Bulma, as if to make sure it was okay. Bulma nodded, and so he left.

Bulma turned and glared at Vegeta. "What do you want now?"

Vegeta glared back at her with annoyance. "Why'd you lie to the weakling?"

Bulma decided to use this conversation as a chance to settle the score a bit.

"Was I lying?" she asked raising an eyebrow.

"Do you mean to tell me that you believe that slap wasn't intended?" he asked, almost in disbelief.

"Maybe," Bulma stated slyly, heading for the doorway. Vegeta grabbed her arm and forced her to face him.

"You deserved to be hit, woman."

"Really? For going on a walk?"

"For disobeying me."

"I don't belong to you, Vegeta."

"Not, yet," he smirked.

Darn! She set herself up for that one. She took a step closer. "Not ever," she stated, simply, once again attempting to walk away. But, of coarse, the Saiyan Prince wasn't going to have her walk away from him. He grabbed her by the hair, violently swinging her around to face him.

"You don't walk away from the Prince of the Saiyans!" he shouted.

Bulma yelled in pain.

"You will fear me, woman," he said in a dark tone that sent chills down Bulma's spine.

"No," she stated, sternly. "Not anymore, Vegeta. Bulma Brief doesn't live in fear!"

Vegeta pulled her hair, earning another cry from Bulma.

"You will!"

Bulma felt her eyes watering, but knew she couldn't let herself cry in front of him. She reached out her hand and softly placed it on his cheek.

"Why are you like this?" she whispered.

Vegeta glared down at her, but for a moment there was another emotion flashing in his eyes. The hand in her hair loosened. He let go, but kept his hand in her hair, running it through the silky strands. He let his thumb sweep over her eyebrow. Bulma closed her eyes for a moment, keeping her hand set on his cheek.

Bulma opened her eyes to find him still glaring down at her. She heard a, "Hmmph," as he turned and left.

Bulma sighed, now more confused than ever. She slowly turned to the door and decided to make an attempt at what would be one of the hardest things she ever tried in her life. She had to talk to Yamcha.


	9. Nope

POSSESSION  
Chapter 9 - ...Nope.

Bulma slowly walked outside, already regretting what she was about to do. Her parents and Yamcha were all laughing and talking together. Bulma stopped in her place, wondering if this was the right thing to do. She watched as her parents and the one she had been with since her teenage years were getting along like family. Bulma sighed, "Like family..."

She hung her head down as she continued to approach what seemed to be the biggest mistake of her life.

"Hi, Bulma!" her mother greeted.

Yamcha turned around, and gave her a smile.

"Yamcha," Bulma looked down to the ground, softly saying the dreaded cliche, "We need to talk."

"About what?" he asked with slight concern in his voice.

Bulma sighed and slowly looked up. "Can we talk in the kitchen. Alone?"

Yamcha nodded, "Yeah, of course."

Dr. Brief raised an eyebrow as he watched the two walk into the house. *Uh, oh.* he thought.

Bulma motioned for Yamcha to sit down at the table. He did, and she took the seat across from him. Bulma was scared out of her mind. What if she did this and it turned out to be a huge mistake? Tears filled her eyes, mixing with the confusion.

"Bulma, are you alright?" Yamcha broke the silence.

"I'm fine," she whispered, trying hard to hold back her tears.

"You don't look alright," Yamcha said with concern, moving to the seat next to her. He slowly put his arm around her, surprised that she tensed up at his touch. "What's wrong?" he whispered. "What'd Vegeta want? Does this have to do with him?"

"No," Bulma shook her head, "It doesn't. It has to do with...with you and me."

The words were starting to slowly sink into Yamcha. He knew. "Bulma, what've I done now?" he said with a faint smile. They had broken up many times for the most foolish reasons.

Bulma shook her head once again. "Nothing," she whispered, "that's what makes this so hard."

"Hey," Yamcha said, pulling her closer, "it'll be alright. We always get through these things."

"No," Bulma said firmly, breaking away from him. "Yamcha, I'm serious this time. We're...we're done...as of now, we're through."

"Bulma," Yamcha whispered, "what's the matter with you? What's been bothering you. I promise whatever it is I'll..."

"I don't love you," Bulma said quickly, taking in an unstable breathe afterwards.

Yamcha moved back in surprise. A shocked expression filled his face before he regained his composure. "Oh," he said simply.

"I'm so sorry," Bulma whispered. "Yamcha, I..."

"No," Yamcha stated, swallowing hard. "It's alright. I just...I need to go now."

"Yamcha," Bulma said, tears evident in her voice, "I..." she didn't know what to say. That's all she could manage to get out.

"Goodbye, Bulma."

Bulma, unable to move, just watched as Yamcha went out the door. Bulma took in a deep breathe as she watched him leave. He was now out of her life. Is that what she really wanted? A shadow loomed over her. Bulma didn't even need to turn around.

"Go away, Vegeta."

"It's about time," he stated with slight amusement in his voice.

Bulma stood up abruptly and madly turned around to face him, knocking the chair to the floor while doing so. "How can you find any of this humorous?" she yelled.

"It's funny you're making such a huge deal over nothing."

"What do you mean nothing? Not everyone is as heartless as you!"

"That's just too bad, isn't it?" he said with a smirk.

Bulma growled in frustration.

"Emotions," Vegeta continued, "are a waste of time. They just get in the way. If you wouldn't allow yourself to get so attached emotionally, you wouldn't be in this mess."

Bulma's eyes narrowed. "One day," she said in a dark tone, "you're going to find yourself falling for somebody. When she leaves, you'll come to me asking what the pain is you feel inside. I'm going to tell you right now that it's a broken heart, 'cause when the time comes, all I'm going to do is laugh."

With that, she turned for the stairs. Before she made it out of the kitchen, Vegeta grabbed her arm. She didn't even turn around. She just waited for his statement.

"Don't count on it," was all he said before releasing her.

Bulma made her way to her room. She had to think this thing through. Being a scientist, she knew that's the way things had to be done. But, Vegeta was right. Sometimes emotions got in the way of reasoning. *Wait a minute. Vegeta...right?* Bulma rolled her eyes at her own stupid thought. He didn't know anything of emotions or rational thinking.

It hurt when she thought of what had just happened. Why did it hurt so much? She didn't really love him, did she? It hurt, but at the same time, she felt relieved. She knew their relationship was going nowhere. It was the right thing to do.

But then why did it hurt so much? The pain in his expression as she told him she didn't love him...

She collapsed on her bed. "Oh, Kami," she whispered, "I didn't want to hurt him." She knew, though, it had to happen. But now she was empty. Completely empty.

Alone.

Loneliness was the thing she feared the most. Now what? Would she spend the rest of her life this way? She didn't know anyone personally outside of the Z Senshi...and they were out of the question. Goku was married...Krillin was bald...Tien had too many eyes...Piccolo was asexual...Vegeta was, well, Vegeta... Yamcha...

"Yamcha," Bulma whispered, "what have I done?"

Bulma took in a deep breathe. There was only one way she could get this out of her mind...her lab. Bulma went down the stairs. A faint smile appeared on her face as she remembered her lab was now outside. She slipped on some sandals and ventured across the yard.

She glanced over at the GR, which was running once again. Bulma rolled her eyes, punching the code into the security pad. She was granted entrance. She grabbed a cup of coffee, then entered her lab. She sighed, happy to be in the one place where she could escape from the rest of the world...and from Vegeta.

She entered the lab, looking around for a project she could work on. There was the fridge...but Bulma wasn't really in the mood to do anything for Vegeta. However, at that moment it was all she could think of to do.

So, once again, Bulma found herself working around a large table, drawing designs on a huge piece of paper. How in the heck was she going to wire this thing? She took a sip of her coffee, slowly letting the cafine take its toll on her body. It was going to be another long night.

She was getting so caught up in her work, she didn't even realize that the sun had already gone down. She was busy drawing, erasing, writing formulas, and drinking her coffee. Now she wondered if she could turn part of the room into a refridgerator and the other part into a freezer. It would help tremendously as the Saiyan-pain-in-the-rear-end stayed at her house. She stopped for only a split second to switch on a small radio. She began to hum along with the tune as she went promptly back to work. She didn't even take time to look up at the clock. She loved being absorbed in what she was doing. It was her only sanctuary from Vegeta and the rest of the world.

Bulma moved to the other end of the table, erasing part of her drawing. In one hand was her pencil and eraser, the other hand held the cup of coffee (which she had to refill more than once). Being careful not to spill her coffee, she fixed a mistake. She gave a small smile as one of her favorite songs came on the radio.

However, she thought she heard the door to the building open and close with a bang. She jumped up, momentarily frightened. She carefully caught herself before she spilled hot coffee all over her. She slowly walked to the door and into the hallway. She was relieved to see it was only her father.

"You forgot to put the security back on when you entered," her father commented. "If you don't remember that, anyone can just waltz right in."

"Sorry," Bulma apologized, feeling rather foolish.

"I just came to see if you needed anything," her father offered.

"No, I'm fine," Bulma smiled.

Dr. Brief raised an eyebrow, "Do you want to talk?"

"About what?"

"Well...about anything, I guess."

"Oh," Bulma looked to the floor, "I broke up with Yamcha, if that's what you're wondering."

Dr. Brief gave a small nod, "Now, would this have anything to do with Vegeta?"

Bulma gave her father a puzzled look, "No, why?"

"Well, it didn't seem to me like you wanted to break up with him until you had a conversation with Vegeta. I just wanted to make sure he wasn't the reason for the break up."

Bulma sighed, "No, it's me. I just can't see spending the rest of my life with Yamcha."

Dr. Brief nodded again, "I knew you two would break up eventually. You're always fighting like cats and dogs."

"Yeah," Bulma mused, "Could you picture how bad it would get if we had gotten married?"

Dr. Brief let out a small laugh, "I don't even want to imagine."

Bulma sighed, "Yeah."

"Well," Dr. Brief stated, patting his kitty on the head, "I'll be in the house if you need me."

"Alright," Bulma smiled, "I'll be heading in after I shut everything down."

"Be sure to put the security back on," her father warned.

"I will," Bulma assured him.

With that, Dr. Brief went back for the house, and Bulma went back to her lab. She refilled her coffee one last time, before shutting off all the lights, machines, and the radio. She put the security back on before leaving the building and heading for the house.

She flicked on a soft light as she entered the kitchen, taking sip of her coffee as she let her eyes adjust. Upon entering the kitchen, she realized just how hungry she was. She glanced around the room and jumped up when she saw someone sitting at the table.

She let out a small yell as her hot coffee spilt all over her.

"VEGETA! What are you doing up this late!"

"Hmmmph...I do as I please, woman."

Bulma let out a small curse, momentarily forgetting about Vegeta as she grabbed a rag to clean herself off. "Don't scare me like that!"

She turned to the sink to rinse out her rag. She turned back towards the table to find Vegeta right in front of her. She gasped, caught off guard.

Vegeta placed his hands on her waist, pulling her closer. "I could find other ways to scare you," he whispered in her ear.

Bulma took in a sharp breathe as one of his hands traveled up her side. Bulma's eyes narrowed, as she bit her bottom lip. She was starting to learn how to deal with these situations. She just needed to play along.

"But, Veggie-chan," she whispered, "I'm not frightened anymore." She took a step forward, just enough to invade his personal space.

Vegeta grabbed her shoulders, forcing her against the wall. Bulma winced.

"Maybe you should be," Vegeta growled.

"What happened?" Bulma asked, running her finger over a cut on his forehead.

Vegeta's eyes narrowed, "Don't touch me, woman."

"Why?" Bulma asked, running her hand down his cheek, "Does it hurt?"

"No."

"Then what's wrong?"

"Woman, you're out of place!"

Bulma leaned slowly leaned forward, placing a kiss on the cut on his forehead. She expected him to jump back, but instead found herself on the floor with Vegeta pinning her arms above her head.

"I know what you're trying to do," he growled, "Let me tell you now that it's not going to work anymore." He lowered himself on top of her. Now Bulma was nervous. She lost her breathe as one of Vegeta's hands traveled down her arm, down her side, and stopped on her waste. "It'd be in your best interest," he whispered in her ear, "if you stopped your little game now before you find yourself too deep. Are you scared, yet?"

*He's just toying with you, Bulma* her mind was screaming, but her body was shaking uncontrolably. "No," she finally got out, determined not to let him win.

Vegeta's hand traveled down her leg and back up as he began kissing her neck. "Just tell me when to stop," he whispered, licking her ear. His mouth traveled from her neck to her shoulder, pulling the strap to her tank top down to her upper arm.

Bulma was really getting scared now. *He wouldn't really...would he?* She gasped as she felt a warm hand traveling up her shorts. "Okay, okay," she whsipered, "that's enough." But he didn't stop. His main focus seemed to be her shoulder. "I said that's enough, Vegeta."

"Say it," he whispered.

"I'm...I'm scared," she let out in a gasp.

Vegeta released her hands and got up with a smirk. "There, now that wasn't so hard, was it?"

Bulma immediately shot up and fixed her tank top, giving Vegeta the most evil glare she could find within herself.

"I have a feeling things are going to get very entertaining now that that baka human's gone."

Bulma's eyes softened a bit. "That night in my room...how did you know I wasn't in love with him anymore?"

Vegeta shrugged. "I didn't," he said in a dark tone, "I just wanted to see how much power I had over you."

Bulma could feel the anger building up in her. "You mean you convinced me I didn't love him just to win this sick game of your's?"

Vegeta approached her, placing a hand on her cheek, "I have more control over you than you think, little one," he whispered. "You're little mind is playing tricks on you...with your strength, your thoughts...your emotions...and I'm at the control of it all."

Bulma shook his hand away, "No," she said in a firm voice, "Nobody controls me."

Vegeta's eyes narrowed, "Think about it. You would have never broken up with that human if it weren't for me."

Bulma's eyes fell to the floor. Had Vegeta been the reason for their break up? The thought of her not being in love with Yamcha had never even crossed her mind until Vegeta made it very clear she didn't have feelings for him. What did all this mean? Did she only think she wasn't in love with him because Vegeta had control over her mind. "But my mind isn't that weak," she whispered, more to herself.

"I never said your mind was weak. I just said I was gaining control over it."

But Bulma didn't hear his words. She was still thinking about Yamcha. "What have I done? How could I have been so blinded?"

Vegeta let out a small laugh. "You're mine," he said in his dark tone.

Bulma was now defenseless. The 'attacks' she had tried before were now failing. Vegeta was putting thoughts into her head without her even realizing it. Now what was she to do? Give in?

Bulma clenched her fists in anger. She invited him to stay at her house, she gave him clothing, she gave him food...and he only made a fool out of her. She felt the sharp pain as her nails dug into her own skin. A fire was burning up in her, a new hatred. But she couldn't seem to focus this hate on him. What in Kami's name was wrong with her? In the pit of her stomach was such anger. She couldn't focus her hate, but she still had her anger.

"You murderous bastard!" she yelled.

A flash of amusement danced in Vegeta's eyes as his lips curled up into a diabolical smile.

Bulma wasn't satisfied, yet. She wasn't about to stop until he felt the same pain, anger, and hatred she felt.

"You are one messed up man, Vegeta! You're sick!"

All she got as a response was a small laugh. He was laughing at her! How dare he!

Her eyes narrowed, and her voice darkened to a low, threatening tone. "You're a wasted wish."

Vegeta's smile slowly faded as he looked at her, a bit confused. Bulma decided to explain.

"They should have left you dead when you died on Planet Namek. They don't need you...none of us do. You're just here 'cause Goku felt pity on you!"

Vegeta's eyes narrowed.

"That's right," Bulma dared to carry it on, "you're only here out of Goku's pity. You have no worth. You keep telling me to respect you because you're the 'Saiyan Prince.'" Bulma rolled her eyes, "Give me a break. You couldn't even protect your people from their number one enemy. Even when you sought revenge, you failed." Bulma took a step forward, getting right in his face, making sure he heard every word she said. "Goku had to finish the job. You were never needed. Not by your people, not by our people, and certainly not by me."

Vegeta's eyes widened and a flash of pain swept through them, but it was gone just as quickly. Bulma knew she had gone too far. She had opened old wounds that should have just been left alone. But her anger was still there, and still growing. She held her stance, still glaring, making sure he didn't think she regretted any of the words she was telling him. There was nothing else to be said, however. She accomplished her goal. She saw pain in his eyes, and there was no doubt in her mind that anger and hate would follow.

"You know nothing," he growled. His voice carried a new darkness to it, and it held much more venum than she had ever heard before. She shivered, not knowing what to expect. "Woman, mark my words, before this is all over with, you will be in hell. You're not as innocent as you think yourself to be."

Vegeta grabbed her hair, throwing her to the floor. Bulma cried out in pain, but didn't have to time to think about what was going on. She was pulled back up into the air, looking down at an angry prince. He formed a KI ball in his other hand.

Bulma's eyes widened in fear. She could tell by the look in his eyes, that he wasn't playing around anymore. She had gotten him angry. *Curse that mouth of mine!* Bulma kicked her legs, trying to escape out of his grip, but found it was no use. She couldn't catch her breath, and found she could no longer scream. Everything seemed to be playing in slow motion as Vegeta lifted his arm, aiming the KI blast at her. Bulma closed her eyes tight, and swallowed hard.

Then, she felt herself lowered to face him. He put his face right up to her's. She could feel his hot, angry breath steaming on her face. "You will fear me in this dimension," he growled, "then we shall meet in the other." With that, he threw her to the ground and headed out the door.

Bulma sat, catching her breath. Fear. She was scared. His words were burying themselves deep within her and she was powerless to stop it. She now feared for her life, her afterlife, and her own sanity. She had to regain possession over herself before he had complete control over her. The only words running through her mind, were those of Vegeta that haunted her one morning at breakfast and were now back to haunt her once again.

"But the mind can play cruel tricks. Sometimes it can manipulate your fears and bring out the worst from your soul."


	10. The Lament

POSSESSION  
Chapter 10 - The Lament

Bulma awoke the next morning with a major headache. The words she had spoken the night before haunted her in her sleep…

"That's right, you're only here out of Goku's pity. You have no worth. You keep telling me to respect you because you're the 'Saiyan Prince. Give me a break. You couldn't even protect your people from their number one enemy. Even when you sought revenge, you failed. Goku had to finish the job. You were never needed. Not by your people, not by our people, and certainly not by me."

Bulma rolled over in her bed and groaned. Did those words really come from her mouth? Now she was going to have to put up with a very angry Saiyan…and angry Saiyans weren't something you would want to deal with.

Bulma sighed. Staying in bed sounded so much better. But the sun kept pouring through the windows, blinding her from the darkness she wanted so much to keep. Bulma pulled the covers above her head, trying to escape the light. It would seem that today was going to be a horrible day.

But then again, as Vegeta himself had pointed out to her, things weren't always as they seemed. Perhaps she could get through the day without getting herself killed. It was a long shot, but it was better than hiding in her room all day.

Bulma remembered the look in the Saiyan Prince's eyes when she said those cruel words to him. She had hurt him. He tried to cover it up, but she knew she had hurt him. He would definitely be angry. Maybe hiding wasn't such a bad idea after all. Maybe she could hide out in her lab. At least there, she could get some work done.

Deciding this was her best option, Bulma drug herself out of bed. She reluctantly went for the shower, feeling a bit more relaxed with the hot water running over her body.

After getting dressed and brushing her hair, Bulma headed for the kitchen. She took a deep breath before entering, thinking she'd find a very upset Saiyan.

She stepped into the kitchen to find her mother cooking, as usual, and her father sitting with the paper and a cup of coffee. However, there was no Vegeta, much to Bulma's relief.

Her curiosity, though, was getting to her. "Where's Vegeta?" she asked.

"Well," her mother started to explain, "he been in that training machine of his since I got up and he hasn't come out of it at all. I think something is bothering the poor dear."

"Poor dear?" Bulma rolled her eyes.

"He must be upset," her mother continued with her pity, "after all, he's been through so much and has nobody to turn to. I think I'd be upset too if I had nobody to share my feelings with. It's a shame too, he's such a nice looking young man. Dedicated too, I might add."

"Mom! First of all, he has people he can talk to - he just doesn't talk! Second of all, he's not dedicated. He's got a one-track mind! Third of all - he's NOT good looking!" With that said, Bulma grabbed a cup of coffee, then stormed off to her lab.

"I wonder what's gotten into her," her mother commented.

Dr. Brief just shrugged, patting the cat that sat on his shoulder on the head. "It's hard telling with that girl."

Bulma entered her lab, sighing with relief. She was finally alone. Bulma wasn't much of a people person. She liked to work in the solitude of her laboratory. It gave her a strange sense of comfort.

Today, however, Bulma's mind wasn't in her work. The minutes passed by slowly as Bulma tried to concentrate on the task in front of her. But her mind kept wondering off.

Why was he like this? Why was he so cruel? Why couldn't he just leave her alone? Then none of this would have happened. Why her? Why did he have to play these games with her? And why in the HFIL couldn't she get her mind off of him!

Bulma pounded the table in frustration. This wasn't working. She needed to get out. Bulma nodded to herself, taking off her lab coat. She grabbed her keys and a capsule, and she was out the door.

Bulma drove to the mall. She didn't like using her flying machines unless she was going great distances, so she just used a car.

Bulma spotted a long navy blue dress. She decided to buy it just to brighten her day. Well, if you get a new dress, you need shoes to match, right?

However, Bulma still wasn't feeling satisfied. She wanted a whole new look. So, she went and bought some new make up. This did make a difference, but she wanted something much more noticeable. After a while of walking around the mall, Bulma knew exactly what she needed. A new hair do. So, she went to the salon and had her hair straightened and shortened. This made a big difference and definitely cheered her up.

Making a few more stops, Bulma bought some new fragrance bubble bath, new PJ's, and a movie. She was thinking about getting a romance movie, but that would be too depressing. She needed something different….horror. It wasn't exactly her type, but at this point, drama and romance would just make her sick. Real life never works out perfectly.

Feeling satisfied, Bulma got some take out and headed for home. She was feeling much better and refreshed. But she was still feeling a bit guilty about the night before. Why should she? He brought it upon himself. Everything she said was true…well, almost everything.

Bulma bit her bottom lip. There was nothing worse than feeling unneeded, and that's exactly what she made him feel. Like he was unwanted. Bulma shook her head…he was unwanted, wasn't he? Whether he was or not, it was wrong to say such words.

But then she remembered her break up with Yamcha. Vegeta was so cruel about it! Not to mention he was the cause of their breakup. If it weren't for him, she'd still be with him! Who knows, they may have gotten married. Her and Yamcha just seemed so perfect together. Then Vegeta has the nerve to play with her mind and convince her she didn't love him.

Bulma's eyes narrowed with anger. No. Vegeta deserved everything she had said to him. Every word…and more.

Yamcha. She had hurt him. She didn't mean to. Was it the right thing? Did she really feel like they were going nowhere…or was that just a result of the Prince's mind games?

"This is so confusing!" Bulma yelled out to nobody in particular.

Bulma arrived home to find the same scene she had left. Her mother was cooking, her father was at the table, and the GR was still running.

"Has Vegeta even left the Gravity Room?" Bulma asked, just a bit worried that he hasn't come out to torment her yet.

"Nope," her father replied, "he's been in there all day. Hasn't he, Kitty?"

Bulma sighed, "He's going to over do it."

"He's just so determined," her mother commented in her cheerful voice. "Oh, by the way. Yamcha called. He's another sweet guy. Your father says you two broke up."

"Uh, yeah. I'll go call him."

Bulma ran up the stairs, feeling a bit nervous. She wasn't sure what Yamcha had called about. Maybe he was willing to forgive her. Did she want that? Maybe he was angry with her. She certainly didn't want that.

"There's only one way to find out," she concluded. With that, she picked up the phone in her room and dialed the familiar number.

"Hello?"

"Yamcha?"

"Yeah?"

"Um, my mother…uh, said that you called."

"Yes, I did." Bulma heard a deep sigh on the other end. "I'm going away in the wilderness for a while to train."

"Yamcha! You know how it scares me when you do that! There's no way I would know if something happened! What if an animal attacks or you freeze to death? How long will you be gone? Winter will be here soon!"

Yamcha chuckled a bit, "Don't worry, Bulma. I always come out alive. I will be there a few months, so yes, I'll still be gone after snow fall, but that's not why I called earlier."

"Wh..what'd you want?"

"Well…before I left…I….I wanted to straighten things out between you and me."

"How do you mean?"

"Can you meet me tomorrow so we can talk?"

"Sure."

"All right. Um, how about I pick you up at your house at eight. We'll go for a walk. Like old times."

"Okay," Bulma smiled, "that sounds nice."

"See you then."

With that, the two hung up. Bulma couldn't suppress the smile sweeping across her lips. She wasn't sure what was going to happen, but it was a big relief to know that they were going to straighten everything out.

Bulma decided to try out her new bubble bath. Tonight, she was going to relax. As she began to run the water, there was a knock at the door.

"Bulma, dear."

"Yes, mom?"

"Would you like some dinner?"

"No, I bought some take out. In fact, it's on the counter. Could you put it in the microwave for me?"

"Sure, dear."

Bulma pinned her hair up…her now, straightened hair. Bulma smiled. She always liked getting new hair do's. After a while of soaking in a hot bubble bath, Bulma put on her new PJ's, then headed downstairs to eat.

The rest of her family were sleeping, indicating Bulma had spent longer in the tub than she meant to. This didn't phase her any, however, for she didn't intend on doing any work that night.

She turned the microwave on to heat up her food and prepared to watch the horror movie she had gotten. She heard the shower running, which meant Vegeta had finally decided to take a break from his training.

"Great," she mumbled, not wanting to deal with Vegeta at this point.

The timer went off on the microwave, which signaled that her food was ready. Bulma sat on the couch with her food, pushing "play" on the VCR.

Bulma liked suspense, but this was ridiculous. There was blood everywhere and intense violence scenes. As if it wasn't bad enough she had to deal with violence in everyday life, but now these actors and directors took it to the extremes. But then again, what else would you expect from a horror movie?

Of coarse, compared to what Bulma had seen in the past, this was so fake. Seeing it from this point of view, made the movie almost fun. She laughed and in her mind made fun of the "bad guys" and all the suspense the actors were trying to cause. This was definitely what Bulma needed…relaxing on the couch with a box of take out, feeling relaxed and new.

Bulma took a blanket that draped over the couch and spread it across her form. She continued her assault on the poorly made horror movie as she continued eating her take out.

Suddenly, Bulma felt a warm hand running through her hair. She quickly turned to see Vegeta standing behind the couch, with a stoic face.

By this time, the credits were rolling and the movie was over.

There was silence for a while before Bulma decided to speak.

"I cut it," she whispered.

"It suits you," Vegeta replied in a cold tone.

Bulma raised an eyebrow. Did he just give her a compliment?

"Vegeta," she decided she had to get this over with, "are you angry with me?"

"Why would I be angry, Little One?" he asked in a dark tone.

A dark smirk formed on his face as he began to run his hand through her hair once again.

"You think your words can harm me?" he asked.

Bulma quickly turned her gaze from his, "I guess not," was her reply.

A morbid atmosphere seemed to creep into the dark room.

"Bulma?"

Bulma quickly looked into his eyes, surprised that he had actually used her name.

A dark smile swept across his face. He wanted this reaction from her. "Do you fear me?"

Bulma shook her head, "Please, Vegeta. Stop these games."

"It's a simple question. Yes or no?"

Bulma took a deep breath, searching for an honest answer. "I fear for you," she whispered, "I fear for your soul."

"I'm going to hell, woman. But I won't fear it. I fear nothing." His voice was harsh, but his words true. He refused to let fear take over him.

Bulma rose, approaching the Saiyan Prince, "You can change, Vegeta. You can change your fate and…"

"No!" he interrupted her, "I do not wish to change myself or my fate! You're just a foolish woman! You'd never understand!"

Foolish woman? Somehow his words hurt. This is what he thought of her? He told her once he thought she was clever. Now what was he trying to pull? Did he really think she was foolish?

What made him do what he did? Why did he treat her the way he did? Why was he…him?

"Frieza did this to you, didn't he?"

Vegeta's eyes shot up and pierced into her own, "Quiet, woman. You don't know what you speak of."

"He twisted your soul. The sights your eyes had to behold…the blood that rests on your hands…this is why you are who you are. This is why you treat me the way you do."

Vegeta shot a glare that froze her in her spot. His gaze seemed to have the power to hold her captive.

"So this is what you think," he stated in a dark tone, "this is what everyone thinks. Poor, Vegeta. Abused. Forced to live without his family. Forced to kill millions. Let me tell you something, woman…"

Vegeta slowly backed her up to a wall, pressing his body against her own. His hot breath on her neck sent a chill down her spine. "You know nothing," he hissed in her ear, "You couldn't possibly begin to understand me. So stop trying."

With that, he turned and began walking up the stairs. Now that his body was so far from hers, Bulma felt cold. She hated this new coldness. She needed warmth. Her cold soul was crying for a fire. A passion.

"You're right, Vegeta." She called to him.

Vegeta stopped on the stairs, though he did not turn to look at her.

"I couldn't possibly begin to comprehend what goes on in that mind of yours."

Bulma slowly approached him. She walked right behind him, not daring to get too close. Slowly and lightly, she placed her hand on his back, letting it glide down in a strange, comforting manner.

"But I'll never stop trying," she whispered.

For the longest time, there was silence. Finally, Vegeta gave an answer.

"Then, you're more foolish than I thought."


	11. A Pleasant Surprise?

Remember when I said there was to a major twist? Thank you Bulmasb for giving me this idea...

POSSESSION  
Chapter 11 - A Pleasant Surprise

Bulma woke up the next morning on the couch. She didn't feel much like traveling up the stairs and passing a certain Prince's room.

The sun poured in through the windows in the living room, filling the void darkness that seemed to loom around her. A new day was here.

Although she was still troubled about the little discussion she had had with _him_ the night before, Bulma didn't see why that should bring down her day.

Bulma rolled her eyes, "I always think that...and look where it's gotten me." She swung her legs over the edge of the couch, a pain rushing through her head from the unwanted light.

There was one solution to this problem...coffee.

Bulma treaded into the kitchen, the room with the most windows...more light to enhance her headache.

But even with all the light, Bulma couldn't help but notice the dreariness of the kitchen. It was dark, filled with shadows...light invaded the darkness, trying to soften its dreary appearance, but to no prevail. It was still that dark, haunting room. There was just no changing it.

The room never seemed so morbidly dark before. Bulma passed it off with the fact she had experienced some bad situations in that room...that wall...that floor...that chair. Bulma smirked when she remembered the reaction she had gotten from Vegeta when she decided to retaliate.

She frowned when she remembered how it was short lived. She wanted to see something besides that dark dreariness about him. A light to his shadows, invading the darkness. But, of coarse, to no prevail. He was still that dark, haunting being. There was just no changing him.

Maybe that's what she needed to realize all along. What made him interesting was the mysterious air about him.

_Hold it! Interesting?_ Bulma rolled her eyes, disgusted with herself. _He's anything but interesting..._

Bulma turned the coffee on, then went upstairs to get dressed. She headed back for the kitchen to make herself a pot of coffee to find that a certain Prince was also up.

He just stood in the far corner of the kitchen, where it was dark. There was a window near there, casting light onto the ground just before his feet. The rest of his features remained in the shadows, hiding in darkness.

"Vegeta?" Bulma narrowed her eyes, making sure it was him he saw.

"Go back to bed, Onna," came a dark voice.

Bulma took a few steps closer. "What are you doing up?" she whispered.

"I don't need a reason," he hissed, "now go!"

Bulma shivered at the darkness his voice carried. However, she wasn't about to let him see that.

"This is my house! I'll do as I please!" she yelled, turning back towards the counter to pour herself a cup of coffee.

She slammed the cup down on the counter, letting Vegeta know she wasn't in a very good mood. She poured some of the hot coffee into her cup, leaving it black. As she did so, she could feel his dark eyes on her back. The fact he wasn't saying anything made her more tense.

"Please don't do that," she sighed with annoyance, not even turning to look at him as she spoke.

Silence. She was hoping he'd have some sort of remark in return, but he was silent. This was just making the already eerie morning even more creepy.

Bulma turned to face him only to find he was right behind her. Startled, she jumped, dropping her coffee cup.

Bulma gasped in pain as the hot liquid splashed all over her arm, chest, and legs. She bit her bottom lip to hold in a scream of pain, but it was still evident in her eyes. And she knew, he knew it.

Coffee also splashed onto Vegeta's face, but his stoic expression never faltered. The only exception was his eyes narrowing, peering at her.

Slowly, he grabbed her waist, lifting her up onto the counter. He took a damp rag from the sink and began to wipe the coffee from her legs.

Bulma said nothing, but gave him a questioning look. Vegeta just glared, showing no other sign of emotion.

Bulma let out a small sigh of relief as the cold wash cloth made contact with the burnt skin. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to sort things out in her mind.

She opened her eyes to find two dark orbs staring into her. Bulma looked down at his hand on her leg. She looked back up at him.

Slowly, and hesitating only a bit, Bulma brought her hand to his face. Softly, she wiped away some of the coffee dripping from it with her thumb.

Bulma suddenly found that her heart was pounding.

As soon as her hand made contact with his face, Vegeta froze. Confusion flashed through his eyes for an instant, before turning empty once again.

Bulma slowly took his hand from her leg so she could take the wash cloth. Then, she brought it to his face, wiping away the rest of the coffee that was covering his skin.

Slowly, she let the rag run down his neck, then travel over his shoulder, and down his arm. She leaned forward, just a bit, so he could feel her breathe. Bulma lightly blew on his neck and shoulder.

Vegeta closed his eyes for a moment as Bulma's breath traveled over his skin. She saw him tremble slightly, goosebumps forming over the areas she had crossed with the wet rag.

Suddenly, Vegeta's eyes flew open. He glanced around the room as if he had heard something. Then, he looked back at Bulma, continuing to glare. He then sat at the table, crossing his arms over his chest. Bulma looked at him, not saying a word.

Vegeta let out a sign of annoyance as Bulma's parents entered the room just moments afterwards.

"Good morning, dear, what are you doing up - it's Sunday!" her mother asked in her way too cheery voice.

Dr. Brief eyed the scene suspicously. There was spilt coffee on the floor and counter, Bulma was on the counter, and Vegeta was looking at her strangely.

Bulma noticed her father's observations. "I had a little accident with a cup of coffee," she said, feeling foolish. "I'll clean it up," she quickly added, jumping off the counter.

"Oh, don't worry about it, dear," her mother said, slightly turning her head to the side, "I'll take care of it."

Dr. Brief's eyes narrowed. Something wasn't right.

"Thanks, mom," Bulma said, while glancing from her father to Vegeta. Her father raised an eyebrow, and gave a small motion to Vegeta.

Bulma shook her head, not wanting to explain anything to her father.

Dr. Brief shrugged, then took his glasses off and wiped them on his shirt to rid them of some dust.

"Oh, Bulma," he finally spoke up, "It's suppose to start getting colder and I know how much you hate the cold. It's a bit of a walk from the house to the lab, so I thought that we should start working on something to fix that."

Bulma smiled, "I never even considered that. Great idea,"

"I have some work to do today," her father continued, putting his glasses back on, "but if you want, we can start working on it tonight."

"That'd be great," Bulma replied, then remembered something. "Oh, wait, I can't," she said, reluctantly. "I'm meeting with Yamcha tonight."

Bulma wasn't sure, but she could have sworn she heard a light growl from Vegeta's direction.

"Yamcha?" her father gave her a questioning look, "Well, that break up didn't take long."

"Come on, dad," Bulma shot back, "we're just going for a walk. We're still officially broke up," she informed him.

"Too bad," her mother joined in, "he's such a sweet young man - handsome too."

"Mother..."

"I'm just saying..."

"Well if I know you at all," her father stated, "then you and Yamcha will be going back out by the end of the week."

Bulma giggled, "Maybe," she teased.

Vegeta stood up abruptly, knocking his chair to the floor in the process. He started for the door when Mrs. Brief became concerned.

"I haven't finished breakfast, yet, Vegeta," she told him.

"I'm not hungry," Vegeta hissed as he slammed the door.

A few minutes later, Bulma heard the gravity machine starting.

Dr. Brief sighed, patting the kitty that sat on his shoulder. "I know Kitty," he stated, "I think so too."

Bulma raised an eyebrow, "Think what?" she asked.

"Oh, nothing," he responded slyly.

"Dad!" Bulma whined, "what are you hiding from me?"

"Nothing dear," he chanted as he sat at the table with a cup of coffee.

Bulma sighed in defeat. "Men..." she muttered. **** "Bulma," Mrs. Brief called, "that sweet Yamcha's here to see you!"

"Already?" Bulma glanced at her watch, then set down the book she had been reading.

She ran downstairs to find Yamcha waiting in the living room. "Hey!" she greeted, "I wasn't expecting you for a while."

"Yeah," Yamcha began, "well, it's suppose to get colder later on, so I thought I'd come by early."

Bulma smiled, "Let me grab my jacket and we'll be off."

Bulma and Yamcha strolled through the park a while, not saying a word. Yamcha stuck his hand in his pocket, staring at the ground.

"You're awefully quiet," Bulma commented, "what'd you want to talk about?"

"Well," Yamcha began, "I was thinking about, well, you know, us."

"Oh," was all Bulma could say.

"You see," Yamcha continued, "we had been together for so long and I honestly can't see myself with anybody else."

"Oh," Bulma said again, feeling uneasy.

"I couldn't figure out why you wanted to break up. We just...you know...made so much sense and...well..." Yamcha stopped walking, turning to face Bulma. "I thought maybe you felt like we weren't going anywhere and..."Yamcha sighed.

Then, to Bulma's surprise, he got down on one knee, pulled his hands from his coat pockets, revealing a small box.

"Bulma Brief," he whispered, "I want you to marry me."


	12. No More Rules

**POSSESSION**  
Chapter 12 - No More Rules to Break

Bulma entered the house, sighing with relief as warmth took over her. It had gotten cold all of a sudden and Bulma had only a light jacket, so she was in a hurry to get home.

After she had went on the walk with Yamcha, she had went on her own little walk. Bulma needed time to think, to reflect. But even after going for such a long walk on her own in the quietness of the day, she still wasn't sure what had just happened.

As she entered the kitchen, she found it empty. She walked into the living room to find her parents watching some sort of movie.

"I'm home," she greeted.

Bulma's mother looked up. "Hello, Dear! We already had dinner, but there's some left in the microwave for you and Vegeta!"

"You mean he didn't eat already?" Bulma asked, just slightly concerned.

"He hasn't left the gravity machine once today," her father commented. "Really, Bulma, I don't know where you get these strange men from."

"Dad!"

"Just kidding," her father chuckled.

"He is a handsome one, though," her mother chirped, "and dedicated. I've never seen anyone work so hard!"

"Mother!"

"I was only saying..."

Bulma sighed with annoyance. "Well, you know, Goku is much more dedicated than Vegeta!""

"Determination is often viewed in different ways," a dark voice came from behind her. Bulma gasped and turned to find Vegeta there.

"How long have you been there?" Bulma asked, turning slightly red from her parents' earlier remarks.

"Long enough," Vegeta smirked.

Bulma narrowed her eyes and growled with frustration.

"Hello, Veggie-chan!" her mother greeted.

There was a light growl coming from Vegeta.

"Mother!" Bulma whined, "Don't call him that! He doesn't deserve that!"

"A prince deserves something more," Vegeta seemingly agreed with her.

"That's not what I meant!" Bulma cried.

"But it's what you said..." Vegeta contradicted.

"Well...you took it the wrong way!" she shot back.

"Things can be seen in different ways," Vegeta agreed.

Suddenly, he leaned over and began whispering in her ear. "Don't compare Kakarot's determination to mine," he threatened, "Our determination stands on two different levels. One of noble intent, and the other of a solitary one."

"One of good, one of evil," Bulma agreed, "but it's still determination none the less and can be brought to scale."

"You're learning," Vegeta whispered so lightly that Bulma almost couldn't hear. "But you have to ask yourself, 'what is right, and what is wrong?'"

Bulma swallowed, feeling uneasy at his closeness. "How about we flip a coin and see?" Bulma counted, knowing it wasn't an answer he was expecting.

"Sounds like fun," Vegeta whispered. He glanced past Bulma, noticing her parents were still watching the movie, "But maybe some other time...when we're alone."

Bulma gave an involuntary shudder as he headed up the stairs.

As soon as he was gone, Bulma turned to face her parents who were giving her a questioning look.

"And what were you two whispering about," her father asked, unsure if he really wanted an answer.

Bulma blushed a bit, "Nothing," she finally said, "Vegeta's just being his usual, annoying, pain-in-the-butt!"

Feeling a little embarrassed about her corny answer, she turned on her heals and went up to her room.

"That girl's gonna get herself into trouble," Dr. Brief shook his head.

Bulma collapsed on her bed, feeling overwhelmed with the day's events. Then she grinned. Everything wasn't a total loss.

Bulma grabbed her phone to dial a familiar number.

"Hello?"

"Chi Chi? This is Bulma."

"Bulma? How have you been? It's been so long since we last spoke," came Chi Chi's voice.

"I've been doing all right. Hey, listen. Yamcha is leaving for his training out in the wilderness and I wanted to gather everybody together for a goodbye party."

"That's so sweet!" Chi Chi complimented, "I'm sure Goku and Gohan would love to come and see Yamcha." Suddenly Chi Chi's voice turned angry, "That is if they'd ever break from training! I swear, that green guy and Goku are going to wear out my poor little Gohan! He needs more time for studying! Defeating these androids won't get him into a good school!"

Bulma giggled. It was definitely Chi Chi on the other line. "How about you all come over tomorrow night. We'll have a nice dinner with some dancing."

"Sounds like fun!" Chi Chi almost sang. "I haven't been out of the house in a while!"

"I'll see you then. Oh, and bring Piccolo with you!"

So Chi Chi and Bulma said their good-byes and hung up the phone. Bulma sighed, then picked up the phone to call Master Roshi's.

"Moshi moshi," came the old man's voice.

"Um, Master Roshi, this is Bulma. Can I speak with Krillin?"

"Yeah, sure," said the old master, "but are you sure you don't want to talk to a stud muffin like me?"

Bulma's face turned red with anger, "If you were here right now, I'd smack you!" she yelled.

"No need to get all fired up, Bulma. Although, you are cute when you're mad…"

"PUT KRILLIN ON THE PHONE NOW, ROSHI!"

"All right, all right…"

After a few moments Krillin answered.

"Yo, what's up?"

"Krillin, this is Bulma."

"Hi, Bulma. Haven't heard from you in a while."

"That's why I'm calling…you see, Yamcha is leaving to train…"

Bulma explained to Krillin about the party. She invited him, Marion, and reluctantly said Roshi could come along, though she knew she'd regret it.

The next day, Bulma slept in until noon. Then she used the rest of the day to get everything ready for the party. She wanted everything to be perfect.

Mrs. Brief helped Bulma decorate the dining room nicely and her father helped out with setting up the music. They ordered some food from a nice restaurant and everything was set. Except for one thing.

The plan was to get the Z senshi gathered together before Yamcha left. That meant, she had another person to invite. Bulma argued with herself, wondering if she should really invite him. _Is he even considered as part of the Z Senshi? He probably won't show up anyway, so why even go through the trouble. Then again, it's better to let him know he was at least invited so he's not offended. _Bulma rolled her eyes and thought, sarcastically, _Yeah that's the last thing I'd want to do._

Mrs. Brief went to do her hair and Dr. Brief managed to escape to his lab. Bulma decided to make a few final touches before everyone showed up.

Bulma lit a candle that was on the table. She wasn't sure why, she just liked the looks of it. It was so peaceful and relaxing. At least, it would be until everyone arrived.

Then, the lights went out, leaving only the tiny glow from the candle. Bulma looked around, trying to figure out what had happened. She looked over to the light switch to see none other than the Saiyan Prince.

"Nice, Vegeta," Bulma remarked, "now turn them back on so I can finish setting up."

Of coarse, Vegeta didn't obey. He just strolled over to Bulma, looking around the room as he did so.

"What's the occasion?" he asked as he stopped right in front of her.

"We're gathering all the Z Senshi here to be together before Yamcha leaves," Bulma answered.

Vegeta's lips curled up into a diabolical grin. "So the weakling's leaving?"

"Yes…" Bulma replied, eyeing him questioningly. _What is going on in that head of his?_

"And you're having a party?" he asked, smirking, "I guess it's well worth the celebration."

"That's not why we're having a party!" Bulma snapped.

"I know," Vegeta whispered, "I just like seeing you angry."

Bulma glared at him, then decided to change the topic, but only slightly. "You're welcome to come," she invited.

Vegeta raised an eyebrow, "To a human celebration?"

"I never claimed you'd like it, nor did I say I wanted you there. I just wanted to let you know that you were invited," she shot back.

Vegeta smirked.

"What's so funny?" Bulma asked.

"Your face…"

Bulma's eyes narrowed, "Jerk!" She yelled as she tried to storm off.

Vegeta grabbed her upper arm, turning her back towards him, "You took the wrong meaning," he whispered in her ear. "In the candle light, your face is rather enchanting…"

Bulma's eyes widened. She glanced up at Vegeta, noting the way the light danced over his skin. She took a deep breath as he stepped closer to her.

Vegeta bent down until his mouth was right by her ear, "You ready to flip that coin now?"

"I don't need to flip a coin," Bulma answered, "the enemy is always wrong."

Vegeta stepped back in shock. "So I'm your enemy?" he asked.

"Maybe…or maybe you're taking the wrong meaning…" Bulma answered.

"Let's flip a coin to find out…" Vegeta suggested in a dark tone.

"It's no use," Bulma whispered, "both sides are the same."

"But that's cheating," Vegeta pointed out with a slight smirk.

"All's fair in war, my dear," Bulma countered.

"Okay, then," Vegeta chuckled, "no rules."

With that, he blew out the candle.


	13. A Thousand Pages

_"Do I contradict myself? Very well then - I contradict myself. I am large, I contain multitudes." - Walt Whitman from __leaves of grass_

**Possession**

Chapter 13: A Thousand Pages

Vegeta bent down until his mouth was right by her ear, "You ready to flip that coin now?"

"I don't need to flip a coin," Bulma answered, "the enemy is always wrong."

Vegeta stepped back in shock. "So I'm your enemy?" he asked.

"Maybe…or maybe you're taking the wrong meaning…" Bulma answered.

"Let's flip a coin to find out…" Vegeta suggested in a dark tone.

"It's no use," Bulma whispered, "both sides are the same."

"But that's cheating," Vegeta pointed out with a slight smirk.

"All's fair in war, my dear," Bulma countered.

"Okay, then," Vegeta chuckled, "no rules."

With that, he blew out the candle.

POSSESSION

Chapter 13 – A Thousand Pages of Emotion, Hate, and Anger

Bulma could feel her heart skip a beat out of fear as all light was removed from her vision. Her eyes frantically searched the room, trying to locate the Saiyan Prince. To her dismay, her eyes failed her. "Vegeta, I can't see in the dark," she commented.

"I can," a dark voice sounded from behind her.

Bulma quickly turned and swung her arm out in front of her, not really trying to injure the prince, but to just locate him. He wasn't there, however. "That's not fair, Vegeta," she pleaded.

Bulma gasped as she felt warm hands running down her arms. He was behind her, close behind her. She could feel his breath traveling up her neck. Her companion in this darkness was her worst fear…and her fear being her worst betrayal of all defenses she held against him. Then there was a dark chuckle as she trembled at his touch. "All's fair in war, my dear," he breathed in her ear.

Bulma swallowed. What she thought to be clever words were now turning everything around. Oh how she regretted those words now.

Vegeta wrapped his arms around her, sending a chill down her spine. She was scared, and he knew it. It was like he had told her before – _If the enemy knows your fears, he knows everything he needs to know_. He knew her fear – it was him. And he delighted himself in it.

If her fears were so predictable, why shouldn't she give him something unpredictable to chew on? She didn't have to give in yet, and surrender was way too obvious.

"If all is fair," Bulma stated in a shaky voice, "then I should be able to make up the rules as I go along."

"There are no rules," he breathed down her neck.

Bulma shivered, but held her composure. "Then there's no rule against me making rules?"

Vegeta laughed. "You're more of a challenge then I thought you'd be. You learn too quickly."

Bulma stood shocked for a moment. What was that suppose to mean? Wait…did he just compliment her? Or did he mean something else? None the less, Bulma shook it off.

"Rule number one," she stated boldly, "never get close to the enemy."

Vegeta's hands immediately fell to his sides. Now being released, Bulma took a few steps forward. _Maybe that wasn't such a good idea…_ now she had no idea where he was. Bulma slowly made her way to the light switch. The darkness was becoming insatiable and it hungered for something unclear to Bulma. Why had darkness seem so void to her suddenly? Why did he always act so strangely around her? What was meant by his puzzling words? Bulma wasn't even sure what was meant by her own words.

Bulma's mind whirled with thoughts, questions, and..oh…so many thoughts. She grew dizzy, wondering around the room for a light switch that would quickly become a savior. Her fear engulfed itself inside an anger in her that formed demons in her mind. Thoughts of how she wanted to hurt him, how she wanted revenge, how she wanted him to suffer…a playground was being set in her mind…one of demons that were taking shape…not really just taking shape - rising to the surface. The demons she held within herself were rising to the surface.

Where was he? Why wasn't he saying anything! _I hope he burns in hell for what he puts me through!_ Suddenly, Bulma's mind went blank. She stopped, growing dizzier. _This is his fault! What's he done!_ Bulma shook her head, snapping herself from her thoughts, and falling to the floor all at once.

"Darn!" she yelled as she fell to the ground. She sat up, brushing herself off before getting back up. Before she could get back on her feet, however, Vegeta was on top of her.

Bulma tried to sit up again, but Vegeta pinned her shoulders to the ground. "Hey!" Bulma yelled, now stuck on the ground.

"Let me let you in on a little secret," Vegeta stated casually. Then he lowered himself right on her, breathing in her ear.

"I'm not the enemy," he whispered.

Bulma's eyes widened. "Then who is?" she asked in a panic, not even sure why she was asking, nor did it dawn on her the impact of his words. She just said the first thing her mind told her to say.

"Bulma!" her mother called from out in the hallway, "I'm back!"

Vegeta immediately got up, picking Bulma up as he did so. "We'll continue this conversation later," he stated as he casually left the room, flipping the lights on with casual ease as he did so.

Bulma stared after him in confusion. _What just happened?_ Her mind was asking.

"Hey, Bulma, guess who's here?" her mother greeted as she entered the room, followed by Goku, Chi Chi, and Gohan.

"Uh…hi," Bulma greeted, trying to regain her composure. "Uh, where's the rest of the gang?"

Goku shrugged, "They'll be here."

Bulma glanced around one last time to see if she could spot Vegeta. While doing so, she felt a tug on her leg. Bulma looked down to see a young Gohan looking up at her.

"Can I use your bathroom?" he whispered, turning slightly red.

"Oh coarse," Bulma smiled. She still found it amazing that Goku had a son. A very clever one at that. But Goku wasn't necessarily dumb…he was just naïve. When it came to battle, he could be the most cunning on the field.

"So where's Yamcha?" Chi Chi asked.

"He'll be here any moment," Bulma explained, glancing at the clock. Then, as if on que, the doorbell rang.

The night had gone on as planned. Almost everyone managed to show up: Yamcha, Goku, Chi Chi, Gohan, Master Roshi, Krillin, Marron, Oolong, and Piccolo were all there. There was chatting, catching up, dancing, and just plain fun that ensued.

The decorating was beautiful. Candlelight lit the air, setting off a sort of serene atmosphere with elegance and grace. Krillin put a slow song onto the CD player and asked Marron to dance. Bulma found it amusing and wondered how long Krillin and Marron would be together. They just didn't seem like a match. Nevertheless, it was sweet watching the short, bald one asking Marron to dance.

To add to the exquisite evening, Chi Chi asked Goku to dance with her. Goku blushed, before gently taking his wife's hand and joining the other couple on the floor.

Bulma had never seen Goku dance before and she was surprised at his skill with the art. His feet moved gracefully in time and his eyes never left those of his wife.

Bulma smiled, her trouble starting to melt away. She was always reminded that even troubles had an end whenever her closest friends were near.

Gohan went into the other room with a book as he found the whole dancing thing boring. Piccolo just sat in the corner, his eyes closed with concentration. A few moments afterwards, however, he too disappeared into the other room.

The night seemed to be going on smoothly, until Oolong got the bright idea to put some alcoholic beverages into the punch Mrs. Brief had set out. Not being able to convince Bulma that he was actually growing younger and dancing with him would have its "benefits," the punch bowl is where Master Roshi spent most of his time as he talked with the pig.

Bulma sighed as she watched the night go by so smoothly. She felt a warm hand on her shoulder. She looked up into the eyes of Yamcha, who held out his other hand. "Wanna dance?" he asked.

Bulma smiled and accepted as Yamcha led her to the dance floor. She was so happy to know that things worked out between them. Yamcha's concern for her, however, continued to haunt her.

"Has Vegeta been bothering you still?" he asked as they danced.

Bulma looked up at him, "He hasn't hit me again, if that's what you mean."

"Does he threaten you?" Yamcha asked in a stern voice.

Bulma sighed as she let out a weary smile. She brought a hand to his face, cupping his cheek, "Don't worry about me," she reassured him, "I can take care of myself."

"I know," Yamcha sighed, "but I still worry."

"I know," Bulma giggled, "I know, but I'll be fine." Bulma let out a deep sigh as she rested her head on Yamcha's shoulder. As his arms wrapped around her, Bulma felt a wave of warmth run through her. She felt safe and distant in his arms. Nobody else could ever make her feel that way. Only that of a true friend.

Suddenly, there was a splash and a yell. Bulma looked up to see a very drunk Master Roshi laughing at Oolong, who was now covered in punch. Bulma's eyes narrowed as she let out a short growl.

"Excuse me," she apologized to Yamcha as she headed to the other room to get a rag to clean up the mess.

She entered the room to find she wasn't the only one there. Sitting in the corner was Piccolo, with Gohan in his lap, reading a book out loud. Piccolo gazed down at the small boy as Gohan read, pronouncing every syllable for the Namek. Bulma couldn't help but smile at the scene.

Piccolo seemed so curious by Gohan. Piccolo had once been evil and fought many times against Son Goku. But something had happened in that wilderness that nobody understood. As Piccolo trained and changed the cowardly boy into a powerful young warrior, somehow Gohan had changed Piccolo. Somehow the innocence in that young boy - the son of Piccolo's greatest enemy - somehow he changed him. His fondness and curiosity for the half-Saiyan was indescribable, and at that moment, Bulma found herself wondering just when it happened that Piccolo found himself being the soul protector of the son of his greatest enemy.

"I heard there's a mess, dear," Bulma's mother greeted, snapping her out of her reverie.

"Uh, yeah," Bulma explain, "Roshi had a little too much punch…and I think a certain pig had something to do with it."

"Well," Mrs. Brief continued, "I'll send someone to clean it up. Don't you give it a second thought."

"Thanks, mom."

Soon afterwards, the group met in the dining room for dinner. A table was set beautifully with candles lit down the middle. Everyone was amazed with the food, the decorating, and the night itself. Of coarse, there were sudden, weird and somewhat strange outbursts from Master Roshi here and there that everyone was starting to ignore.

Chi Chi urged Goku to use his manners as he hungrily dug into his food. Gohan giggled as his mother turned red, trying not to make a scene at the table. Piccolo sat at the end of the table, showing really no expression of enjoyment - or annoyance for that matter - only drinking water. Yamcha sat next to Bulma, enjoying her company.

Krillin told some jokes, some causing slight giggles, others earning a lecture from Chi Chi on being appropriate at the table. Bulma's father sat across from Bulma next to her mother, giving the cat on his shoulder a few bites to eat from his own plate.

Then, Vegeta stepped into the room. Everyone turned silent, not saying a word as the Saiyan Prince entered with a certain air about him. He glared around at the scene before him, taking a few more steps toward the table. He noticed Bulma and the one next to her, his eyes narrowing even more.

The room was dead still, except for the gaze of her guest. His gaze seemed to be shouting at all of them in that dead silence. She noticed his fists clench into a ball as he slowly made his way to the table.

Everyone's eyes followed his every move. Nobody knew why he was there or what he was about to do. They didn't question it, either. They just watched as he stopped just behind Bulma, look down at her for a brief moment, then sat in the seat on the other side of her.

"Let's rock 'n roll!" Master Roshi shouted, breaking the silence.

At that moment, everyone turned back to their conversation they were once engaged in.

Vegeta sat next to Bulma, not even looking at her. He just ate, keeping his gaze distant.

Bulma didn't know whether or not to be relieved or worried by this action. She decided to act as if he weren't there and continue on. She found, however, that she could only ignore his presence for so long.

"Is something wrong?" she finally asked him.

"No, did I say there was something wrong?" he simply replied, continuing to eat.

"No," Bulma answered back, "I just didn't expect you to be eating with us."

"You invited me."

Bulma blinked. Well, yeah, she invited him, but she didn't actually think he'd come.

"Bulma," Yamcha whispered, "I think it's time."

Bulma nodded, "I'm nervous," she whispered.

"Do you want _me_ to tell them?" he asked.

"No, I'll do it," Bulma said in a shaky voice. She stood up, watching as everyone continued on in the conversations. She took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. She cleared her throat, catching everyone's attention.

"Okay," Bulma began, "Uh…"

"Do a dance for us!" Roshi shouted.

Bulma glared, causing Roshi to be silent. Bulma took in another breath as she felt everyone's eyes on her. She shouldn't be this nervous! She had done presentations and speeches before - she could pull this off.

"Well," Bulma began once again, "as you all know, I've gathered you here to say farewell to Yamcha before he goes to do his annual training in the wilderness." Bulma paused, glancing down at Yamcha who just smiled at her and held her hand in support.

"Well," Bulma continued, "there's another reason I wanted you all here…well…why _we_ wanted you all here. You see…" Bulma glanced down at Vegeta whose gaze was now fixed on her. Her heart began to pound as she saw him. He glared, but in his eyes Bulma saw pure curiosity and resentment.

"Yamcha proposed to me," Bulma continued, glancing at everyone's expression, "and I said 'yes.'"

Silence. Bulma froze as everyone was silent. In her mind, there was the ticking of a clock. One slow tick…one small motion. Just one moment. But it dragged on into eternity. Everyone was watching her - but why weren't they saying anything?

And in that split second, Bulma wondered what Vegeta's reaction was. She could only imagine. Would he be angry? Or would he be amused by what he would call "foolishness." Whatever it was, she didn't know at that moment, for she dare not look at him.

Then, Chi Chi rose from her chair, giving Bulma a hug.

"Congratulations!" she shouted. Bulma smiled at her friend.

At that moment, everyone seemed to join in congratulating the happy couple who was to be wed.

Bulma glanced at Vegeta. He remained in his seat, looking at her. He said nothing - he just stared. He stared right at her. His eyes, however, could write a thousand pages of emotion, anger, and hate. And they wrote - they wrote in between the imaginary pages that laid in her soul.

Bulma's heart stopped as everyone gathered around her, giving their 'congrats.' She was going to be wed to the man she had dated since she was a kid. But somehow, she knew that all her problems weren't going away.

She knew it. She could read it. She read it in his eyes. She read those one thousand pages in that one moment.

AN: Don't Ask.


	14. Unseen Eyes

**Possession**

Chapter 14 – Unseen Eyes

So everything continued on. The gang gave the couple their congrats. Piccolo seemed somewhat startled and disappeared somewhere to meditate much to Gohan's disappointment. Vegeta disappeared to who knows where and Goku excused himself after congratulating the "happy" couple.

Everyone else left, one by one. Soon, Bulma found herself standing in the doorway, saying farewell to Yamcha.

The night was peaceful, and serene. It was so calm and there was even a light, warm wind. Crickets were heard chirping, though there were fewer and fewer of them each night as winter approached. The trees were growing bare, their branches lightly swaying to autumn's song.

"Be careful," Yamcha told Bulma, getting ready to leave.

"_YOU_ better be careful," Bulma warned, "and I mean it. You know this always makes me nervous – going off into the wilderness by yourself."

"It's where I do my best training," Yamcha reminded her, "besides, I've been doing this since before I knew you. I'll be fine – it's you I worry about."

"_Me_? " Bulma looked up at him with confidence. "Yamcha, I can take care of myself."

"I know," Yamcha whispered, "but you seem to underestimate the danger of having Vegeta in your house. I just.."

"Yamcha," Bulma interrupted him, "you forget _I_ was also on planet Namek and I happen to know just how dangerous Vegeta can be. You need to trust me when I say I'll be okay."

Yamcha sighed, "I know."

Bulma rolled her eyes, "You never were good at trusting me."

"We'll work on that," Yamcha replied, letting out a nervous laugh. After a short silence, he decided it was time for him to go. "Well," he sighed, "I guess I'll see you in a month. We can plan everything then."

Bulma bit her bottom lip, suddenly feeling awkward. "I guess so," she replied.

Yamcha slowly bent down, softly capturing Bulma's lips in a short kiss. "See you then," he whispered.

Bulma simply nodded, not being able to find her voice. With those simple words being said, Yamcha left Bulma's house, glancing back for a moment to give her a short smile. Bulma let out a weak smile and gave a short wave as Yamcha flew into the air.

Bulma went out onto the back porch, deciding to enjoy what was left of autumn before the winter came.

The gray clouds silently led cool winds, allowing winter to take over the late autumn. But the winds weren't so strong; they were soft, light, and gentle. Some sort of a calmness before a great storm is to break out. A storm of rage, or a storm of passion – only time would tell. And that's all they seemed to have on their side – time. The three years were passing, and as they all had a chance to enjoy themselves that evening, realization was buried within that the androids would soon be there to destroy everything they knew and loved. And all they seemed to have was time.

As Bulma stepped onto the porch, she found she wasn't alone. Sitting on the steps was Son Goku, gazing out at the gravity chamber, which was currently on, giving out a low hum.

He seemed to have an expression of deep thought and wonderment. Bulma knew Goku long enough to be able to tell when he was concerned about something, and at this moment, he was concerned.

"Goku-sa?" she asked, letting him know of her presence.

Goku quickly shook his head, snapping himself out of what thoughts may have been going through his head.

"Hey B-chan!" he smiled, but he just didn't seem like his cheery self.

"Goku, what's wrong?" Bulma asked, "why didn't you go home with Chi Chi and Gohan?"

"Oh," Goku began, "I was just thinking. The weather is so nice right here and I guess I just got caught up in my thoughts."

Bulma blinked, twice. She had never pictured Goku as one to be, well, enlightened with deep thoughts. She took in a deep breath, then sat down on the steps next to him.

"What were you thinking about?" she asked, breaking the short silence.

"The boy from the future," was Goku's reply.

Bulma looked at the man next to her, now growing curious. "What about him?"

"Do you think that," Goku began, "that his coming from a different time will result in drastic changes in _our_ time?"

"I hope so," Bulma answered, assuming he was referring to the androids.

Goku shook his head, looking up at the gray sky, "No," he whispered, "I mean things that shouldn't happen."

_Now_ Bulma was definitely interested, "Like what?"

"Well…" Goku scratched the back of his head, "If I know something is suppose to happen, should I try to correct it, or should I let it play out 'cause maybe that's what's suppose to happen or maybe something changed when the boy came and things aren't happening the way they should and…"

"Woah," Bulma interrupted, "Son, slow down!" Bulma let out a small giggle, seeing Goku's frustration, "Son-Kun," she smiled, "just worry about training. The important thing is that we free ourselves from the androids."

"But," Goku began, "Maybe this will just lead to something worse."

"Something worse?" Bulma asked, "Is there anything worse than evil androids?"

"I don't know," Goku sighed. After a brief silence, Goku spoke up, becoming a bit bolder. "Do you think you would have said yes to Yamcha's proposal in the normal timeline?"

Bulma shivered, the wind suddenly giving her a chill. "This is the normal timeline now, Son," she replied, pulling her legs to her chest, glancing up at the sky.

"I guess so," Goku agreed. He let out a weary smile, turning back to Bulma, "Thanks B-chan," he sighed, "you always were the smart one."

"And _you_ were always the strong one," Bulma teased, "Don't worry, Goku. We'll find a way to make the world safe."

Goku sighed, "I hope so."

"You'd better get home before Chi Chi worries," Bulma teased, "I'd hate for us to lose our strongest warrior due to a mad wife."

Goku smiled, scratching the back of his head, "Chi Chi means well," he replied.

"I know," Bulma smiled, "But you shouldn't leave her worrying."

"I know," Goku sighed. "But first," he said, taking one of Bulma's hands. Stunned, Bulma looked at Goku with a questioning look. "Take care of yourself," Goku advised, "He's not as bad as you think."

Before Bulma had a chance to question Goku's strange words, he flew off into the sky. That was the second time he had given her advice that made absolutely no sense before just taking off into the sky.

Bulma felt a chill run down her as she entered her room with a towel wrapped around her body. She had just finished her shower and was getting ready for bed. Finding it to be a bit chilly in her room, she shut the doors to her balcony, closing the long curtains with it.

During the summer, she'd keep her balcony doors open. It aired her room out, letting a soft breeze cool her at nights. It was starting to get cold, however, and so she decided it was time for the doors to be closed.

After changing into a long nightshirt, Bulma simply combed her hair, then crawled into her large bed. She found the comfort of her blanket to be useless however, for she couldn't sleep. She rolled on one side, then on the other. She laid on her back, then on her stomach. She closed her eyes, counted sheep – but she just couldn't sleep.

She didn't know what to think of her day. Of coarse, it was wonderful. Who wouldn't be excited about the announcement of their wedding? But then again, Bulma never thought of herself as the type to settle down and get married. It made her feel…old and…taken. It was so final. Maybe she should have put more thought into this. But now Yamcha was away, so she couldn't very well talk to him about it. There wasn't really much she could do until he returned anyway. She knew Yamcha had to be the one. They had been together since they were young teens. It was the only thing that made sense.

Thoughts, doubts, and assurances were running through Bulma's mind as she slowly started to doze off. Her slumber, however, wouldn't last for long.

Bulma slowly opened her eyes, wondering just when it was she had fallen asleep. Her hair was still a bit damp, so she knew she hadn't been a sleep for long. She rolled over onto her back, silently staring at the ceiling. Why on earth couldn't she sleep?

The house was so quiet. There were no sounds of people downstairs, no sounds of the GR running, not sounds of anyone up at all. As Bulma's eyes adjusted to the darkness, she could start to make out the light on the ceiling. Science has come a long way. From the wheel, to electricity, to capsules – it had come a long way. But Bulma found this to be quiet boring for the time of night, so she rolled over onto her side, facing the doors to the balcony.

She watched as the long curtains flowed in the light, autumn breeze. Clouds moved in the sky, revealing the soft, glowing moon. It's light began to pour into the room, giving Bulma the perfect picture of serenity. The clouds kept moving, and the moon was covered once again, leaving Bulma in darkness. It didn't ruin the mood, however. She still found the soft breeze to be peaceful. She closed her eyes, letting its soft touch whisper into her ear. She shivered as the night's coldness started to fill the room. _Maybe I should close it,_ she thought.

Bulma shot straight up in her bed, suddenly fully awake. She slowly got to her feet, softly walking across her room, her heart pounding with every step. She hugged herself as another cool breeze entered the room, causing her to shudder. She looked up at the curtains, which were half-open.

Slowly, she finished opening them, fully revealing to the night her room. Her eyes narrowed with confusion as she beheld that her balcony doors were wide open.

Bulma quickly shut the doors. Her mind was racing with thoughts and questions. She couldn't think of any logical way that her doors had opened, except for the fact that somebody opened them. But who? And why?

Bulma quickly shut her curtains, then stepped back, examining them. She waited for something to trigger in her mind that would tell her she was being silly. But it never came. Maybe it was just the time of night, but Bulma found herself a bit frightened.

She turned around, heading for the door. As she walked to the door, she kept checking over her shoulder, making sure nobody was behind her.

Bulma slowly made her way down the stairs, trying to calm her racing heart. She knew she was just being silly, but the frightening feeling stayed with her. Whenever she felt this way, she knew the perfect cure – TV. It could get her mind off anything.

As soon as she reached the bottom of the steps, she hurried into the living room as quietly as she could. Her hand shook as she turned on the living room light, revealing she was alone. She turned on the TV, keeping it soft so as not to awaken her parents.

Bulma sat on the couch, wrapping a quilt around her as she did so. Her heart was still racing a bit, but starting to calm down as her ears were filled with sounds once again. She convinced herself that it was the silence of the house that got her heart beating so fast.

Bulma grabbed one of the couch pillows, trying to make herself comfortable. She figured she'd have to sleep there. But there still arose her earlier problem: she couldn't sleep. Bulma sighed, thinking a little snack might do the trick, but her heart was still beating a bit too fast for her liking. In other words, she was too scared to leave the glow of the television to go into the dark kitchen.

After about fifteen minutes of some ridiculous black and white sci-fi movie, she gathered the courage to walk into the kitchen. She immediately turned on a light, feeling safe once again.

"Go back to bed, woman," she heard a growl.

Bulma immediately jumped, letting out a small gasp. "Vegeta!" she scolded in a soft voice, "don't do that!"

She turned to find Vegeta standing in the dark corner of the kitchen. Bulma arched an eyebrow, growing very curious. "Vegeta?"

"What is it, woman?"

"Why are you hiding in the corner?" Bulma asked.

"I'm not hiding," Vegeta sighed, "just go back to bed."

Bulma's eyes narrowed as she slowly walked to where Vegeta was standing. Another thought suddenly entered her head as she kept walking towards him. "Don't you sleep?" she asked.

"That's none of your concern," Vegeta snapped, "just leave."

"Why?" Bulma asked, stopping in front of him, "This is _my_ kitchen. I'm allowed in here. The question I'm wondering – everytime I come in here at night, you're already here. Why is that?"

"Woman," Vegeta warned, "don't dwell on such coincidental matters. Go back to sleep."

"But I can't sleep," Bulma informed him, "that's why I'm here. I thought if I ate something…"

"Then get to it," Vegeta interrupted her, "and leave."

"Okay…" Bulma sighed as she went to the fridge, then changed her mind as she instead went to the cupboard, pulling out a tea bag. Putting some water on to boil, Bulma turned back to Vegeta.

"Want some tea?" she offered.

Vegeta's eyes narrowed, "I thought you were getting something to eat."

"I decided tea would be more…"

"…relaxing?" Vegeta finished for her.

"Yeah," Bulma sighed, turning to the boiling water once more. She could feel his eyes on her as she began pouring the hot water into her cup. She tried to pretend like she didn't notice, but found his deep gaze unnerving.

"I'll take some," Vegeta finally spoke.

Bulma turned around, confused. "Excuse me?" she asked.

Vegeta nodded to her cup of tea, "I'll take some of that. I could use some…relaxation."

"Oh," Bulma replied, "okay."

Bulma turned once again, making another cup for Vegeta. She set it on the table, taking hers as she began to leave.

"Where you going?" Vegeta asked, suddenly.

"Living room," Bulma replied, not even turning back.

"Why?" Vegeta asked, taking his tea.

"I thought you wanted me out of here," Bulma commented.

"This is _your_ kitchen," Vegeta countered.

"And I don't wish to be occupying it at the moment, so I'm leaving."

"Then I'll join you."

Bulma turned to find Vegeta walking towards her. "Excuse me?" Bulma asked.

Vegeta walked past her, entering the living room. "I said I'll join you."

"But I'm just watching TV. I mean, I don't think you'd…"

"Why are you down here anyway?" Vegeta asked.

"I could ask the same of you," Bulma rolled her eyes.

Vegeta raised an eyebrow, "You can tell me," he whispered in his dark tone.

Bulma bit her bottom lip, then rolled her eyes once more, giving in. "I was scared, okay? I was scared, so I came down here to watch television." Bulma followed Vegeta into the living room, feeling very foolish about her fears before.

She sat on the couch, wrapping her quilt around her once more. Vegeta walked behind the couch, taking a drink of his tea as he did so. He slowly leaned down, whispering in Bulma's ear, "There's nothing for you to fear."

Vegeta sat on the back of the couch, drinking his tea as Bulma sat with her quilt wrapped around her. She slowly drank her tea, closing her eyes to let the warm liquid take its effect. She opened her eyes to find Vegeta going up the stairs.

"Vegeta," Bulma called, turning to face him.

Vegeta stopped, but didn't turn. "What is it, woman?"

"What did you think of tonight?" Bulma asked.

Vegeta sighed with irritation, "I don't know a thing about your human customs, and if it has to do anything with that weakling, I don't care to know, either."

"You mean, you don't know what marriage is?" Bulma asked, shocked.

Vegeta shook his head, continuing up the stairs, "And as I said, I don't care to know."

Bulma opened her mouth to reply, but knew that Vegeta truly didn't want to know. She watched as he continued walking up the stairs, not even looking back at her.

After Bulma finished the tea, she found herself much more relaxed – and a lot sleepier. She soon dozed off into a peaceful sleep in front of the soft glow of the television…unaware of the pair of black eyes that were watching her from the top of the stairs.


	15. Drowning

Possession

Chapter 15 – Drowning

"I can't figure out why these don't match up!" Dr. Brief was explaining to his only daughter. "I figured that since this whole freezer idea was yours in the first place, you could help me go back through these equations."

Bulma's face lit with a smile. She loved going through her father's madness, trying to find out the one spot where he had made a mistake. Her father was always full of new ideas that would lead to some of the greatest inventions. In his work, however, he'd sometimes slip up, as his mind would wonder to a new idea. Then it was Bulma's job to step in and find where the mistake was made.

Bulma took another sip of her coffee as her father took a seat next to hers at the kitchen table. "Let see what ya got," Bulma replied.

Her father smiled, setting a stack of papers on the table. It was a pretty large stack, but most of her father's notes were.

Dr. Brief cleaned his glasses on his shirt before taking some of the papers and motioning for Bulma to do so as well.

Bulma glanced over the papers, reading the symbols and equations that were covered on the page. Her eyes narrowed as she went over each line, checking the math over for accuracy. One little mistake could set off the rest of the work her father had done.

As always, her father was coming up with some new approach to a simple idea. Bulma smiled as she began to see the short cuts her father had taken, reminding her just how much of a genius her really was.

Bulma began to be drawn into the equations and Greek symbols used in her father's notes. She was fascinated with every step he had made. She didn't even notice how fast time was passing by.

Bulma's mother interrupted Dr. Brief and Bulma's work, however.

"Now dearies," her mother greeted, "I can't very well set the table for dinner if you two are doing your work there. You have labs, ya know!"

Bulma let out a deep sigh and rolled her eyes. Her father's eyes sparkled as he let out a chuckle at his daughter's obvious annoyance. He pat his kitten that was forever sitting on his shoulder, commenting, "I guess we shall move elsewhere, then, huh, Kitty."

The cat simply looked at Dr. Brief with its big eyes and tilted is head with curiosity.

"How about we finish this in the living room?" Dr. Brief suggested.

Bulma nodded in agreement as she gathered the papers and followed her father into the living room.

In the other room, the two scientists sat on the floor, getting caught back up into their work.

Bulma didn't know how long her and her father had been sitting there working over problems. She noticed her father's eyes deep in concentration, yet he took his glasses off, signaling he was physically tired. Finally, something on one of the many pages jumped out at Bulma.

"Dad!" she cried, "You goof! You didn't take the antiderivative of this whole equation! You only did part of it."

Her father quickly glanced over her shoulder, reading his own notes. "Bulma, dear," her father explained, "I didn't take the antiderivative of e^x, because its antiderivative _is_ e^x."

Bulma giggled, shaking her head. "Dad," she commanded, "put your glasses on."

Dr. Brief gave her an odd look before places his glasses back over his eyes. He looked back down at his notes. His eyes widened with realization as he let out an, "Oh, I see."

The e^x that he didn't think needed to be integrated was actually e^2x.

"That slightly changes things," her father agreed.

"Which would _largely_ change things in your other equations," Bulma pointed out. "You really shouldn't do these things without your glasses."

Her father let out a weary smile. "I know," he sighed, "but that's what I got you for."

Bulma let out a proud smile. "I could program this into the computer," Bulma offered, "then you won't have to worry about doing all this work on future projects." She let out a small laugh before adding, "But then again, you'll probably find some new way to do these things, won't ya?"

"Maybe," her father grinned, "depending…"

"On what?" Bulma asked.

"On how much sleep I've had. I'm worn out," her father yawned.

"Supper time!" Bulma's mother announced, entering the room for only a moment before returning to the kitchen.

"After dinner I'll do some work on these," Bulma offered, "it's your turn to sleep tonight."

Bulma's father stretched his arms into the air, yawning as he gave a short nod, "That'd be nice."

Bulma shook her head, smiling, as she entered into the kitchen.

Once again, Bulma found herself sitting at the dinner table with her father and mother. Vegeta, however, was nowhere in sight. The only evidence that he was still on earth was the low hum of the gravity machine.

"That man is just so dedicated," Bulma's mother chirped with a small giggle.

Bulma rolled her eyes, taking another bite of her potatoes. "Mother," she whined, "would you _please_ stop saying such things."

"Well," her mother explained, "he's just so determined. Look out – one of these days he may become stronger than Goku."

"Yeah right," Bulma sighed with annoyance, "now can we please continue our dinner without mentioning _him_?"

"It's just a shame," her mother went on, "that he's missing dinner. Perhaps he lost track of time."

"He doesn't care when dinnertime is," Bulma explained, setting her fork down with annoyance, "he eats when he's hungry."

"Maybe somebody should go let him know supper is ready," her mother requested.

"Are you not listening!" Bulma asked, "He's not ready to eat, yet!"

"Well then," her mother sighed, "why didn't you just say so."

Bulma let out a deep sigh, truly annoyed at this point. "How stupid of me," she said under her breath.

Bulma's father smiled, letting out a small chuckle. He patted the small cat on the head as he explained, "I think I'll just go get some sleep."

"Good idea," Bulma smiled, forgetting her annoyance with her mother, "You deserve a break."

Dr. Brief stood, stretching and letting out a large yawn. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Night, Dad," Bulma said as her father parted with the rest of the family.

"My," Mrs. Brief exclaimed, "he looks all tuckered out."

"Uh, yeah," Bulma giggled at her mother's choice of words.

"Now what?" her mother asked.

"Now," Bulma explained, "I've got some work to do in the lab."

Bulma walked across the lawn, wrapping her arms around herself as she did so. The sun was setting and the night air was beginning to fill her senses. Letting a shiver escape to the oncoming darkness, Bulma kept up her small travel.

She stopped for a moment to glance at the running gravity room. She was beginning to find its low hum to be an annoyance and its presence alone was beginning to drive her crazy. Her eyes narrowed as she set her vision ahead of her once again, shaking her head as she continued to make the small walk to her lab.

Now a small walk can instantly turn into a long one if you let your mind wonder. Bulma, having one of the most intelligent minds on the earth, couldn't help but let her mind wonder.

She was so sick of that ridiculous machine. No doubt he was going to kill himself in there. And _him_. She admitted that at one time she did find him attractive. She invited him to stay there, but she didn't mean for things to get so deep. Bulma found herself treading in deep waters – and she didn't know how to swim.

How dare he assume she would just do everything he commanded her to do. How dare he only make his presence known when he felt like it. How dare he make his presence known when she didn't want to see him. How dare he cause these emotions to swell up in her. How dare he to even speak to her in the way he did. How dare he make her feel she wasn't smart enough. How dare he make her feel she wasn't attractive enough. How dare he make her feel she was shallow!

Then, again, he didn't really make her feel that way. It wasn't she didn't smart, or she didn't feel attractive, or she felt shallow – it was more like she felt she hadn't reached her potential. Like she had more to offer. Like she had something more within her, waiting to explode. Waiting to break. Waiting…

Bulma gasped as it suddenly became dark. She looked up to see dark skies looming over her head like a bad omen coming her way. A storm was about ready to break out – and she wasn't just thinking of the weather. A woman's intuition can be a very strong sense, and Bulma sensed that something was going to happen before the night was over.

Bulma hurriedly punched the code numbers into the keypad as cold raindrops began to make their way to her. She was allowed entrance, and Bulma gladly entered.

She took off her coat, hanging it on a hook in the long hallway as she entered her lab. She flipped the switch on. The black room suddenly lit up as light after light flickered on. A small smile crept across Bulma's lips. She was back where she belonged – her lab.

Bulma sat down at a desk at the end of the room behind all the experimenting tables. She immediately booted her computer, getting out the notes her father had given her earlier.

Bulma began to type away as she started to program equation after equation into the computer. She wanted to program her father's work so if he or she decided to do a similar project later, they wouldn't have to do all that work again to get through all those equations.

Hour upon hour passed as Bulma continued to work. Somewhere within that time she had managed to make some coffee and had a cup next to her at the desk. After so much work, she found herself beginning to slouch in her chair. Her eyes were fighting to stay open and her eyes were becoming severely strained by the light of the computer.

Bulma stopped her typing to take a small drink of her coffee. She let the liquid run through her body, hoping the caffeine would find a way to let her stay awake just long enough for her to finish.

Bulma continued to type. She made about a dozen trial and error programs before she got the first part of her programming just right. Each time the screen would flash that the computer had received an error, she found a rage building up within her. But this was what being a scientist was all about. Making errors and learning from them.

So she continued on until she was finally successful. A small smile danced on her lips at her success, but she knew not to be too proud. She still had the rest of the program to finish.

Bulma jumped as a loud crash of thunder was heard from outside. From the sounds of the storm, it seemed the lightning had struck awfully close. She didn't feel too safe in the huge lab by herself – especially since it wasn't connected to the main house.

Bulma shrugged off her fears, determined to finish the program. The lab had really good security anyway. It'd be hard for anyone to enter without her knowing.

Bulma stopped her rapid typing for a moment as she remembered her father's words.

_"And," he added, "whenever you leave here, be sure to put the security on. Not only do we not want anyone sneaking in here, we don't anyone getting hurt."_

Bulma sat, trying to recall whether or not she had turned on the security. She tried to shake it off, but found it to keep coming up in her mind. She remembered putting the code in to enter the lab, but she didn't remember turning the security on after she came into the lab. Deciding she wouldn't be able to get any work done with the doubt in her head, Bulma decided to just get up and check to see if it was on.

Bulma walked to the other end of the room, approaching the door and entering into the hallway. As she made it to the end of the hall, she approached the door to find that the security was indeed off. Bulma rolled her eyes at her own forgetfulness and quickly punched in the numbers that turned the security on, sighing with relief now that she knew she was safe.

Turning to walk to the lab once again, Bulma let out a small scream as another crash of thunder filled the air. This time, the lights went dim, then turned back on. She bit her bottom lip, knowing that this was going to be a big storm and she wasn't sure if being in her lab was the safest. Then again, it wouldn't be anymore dangerous than being in the house.

Bulma placed her hand on the doorknob to her lab. She opened the door, feeling a weird sense that she wasn't alone. She slowly walked into the lab, approaching her desk once more.

She sat down, getting ready to type once again when she heard his voice.

"The gravity machine isn't working."

Bulma jumped in mild surprise. She swung around in her chair to see Vegeta standing in the shadows of the other end of the lab.

"What are you doing in here?" she asked with annoyance, "I want you out!"

"Turn the machine back on," Vegeta commanded in a quiet tone.

Bulma sighed with frustration, "Lightning probably struck one of the lines and so the machine shut itself down to keep _you_ safe."

"I want it back on."

Bulma rolled her eyes, "Well there's nothing I can do about it! Lightning can cause it to become overwhelmed with energy. It has to shut down and cool itself off. Surely even _you_ can understand that."

"Fine," Vegeta hissed, turning to leave.

Bulma turned back to her computer to start typing again when she felt herself explode. How dare he just leave!

Bulma suddenly stood up in her chair in a fit of rage, causing it to tip over. "Fine?" she asked, turning to face Vegeta.

Vegeta stopped in his tracks, but refused to turn and face her.

"That's all you have to say?" Bulma asked in madness, "Fine?"

Bulma noticed Vegeta's hands clench into fists as he spoke through his teeth. "And what would you have me say, woman?"

Bulma's eyes widened. She began storming across the room as another sound of thunder echoed throughout the building. "I don't know – certainly you have _something_ other than 'fine' to say to me. You always did every other time. Just why is it different now, Vegeta?"

Vegeta slowly turned his head, his eyes narrowing at her. "I've got other things to worry about, woman. I've had it. I have more important things to do."

"Oh, no," Bulma shook her head, approaching him. She stopped when she stood right in front of him. Her eyes narrowed into slits as she poked him in the chest with added emphasis, "_You_ are going to finish this game you've started. I am _not_ about to allow you to quite just when I'm beginning to understand how you work."

Vegeta rose an eyebrow, now interested in what she had to say. "You think you know how I 'work'?" he asked skeptically.

Bulma crossed her arms, imitating the smirk that presently marked his own face. Her smirk faded, however, as she became serious once again. "You've messed with my mind thus far, Vegeta. Why stop when you can make me _completely_ insane?"

Vegeta's eyes narrowed, "I've found new entertainment."

"Entertainment?" Bulma screamed. "Entertainment? Oh, no, I have so much more to offer."

"Bulma," Vegeta hissed, "you are out of line. I suggest you drop the whole subject and forget any of this happened."

Bulma shook her head, letting out a mad laugh. "I don't think so," she whispered. Bulma's arms dropped to her sides as she began to step closer to Vegeta. "I know you're not my enemy – we've established _that_ much."

"It doesn't matter any.."

Vegeta was cut off as Bulma continued, "_And_ I know that everyone is wrong about you."

Vegeta stepped to Bulma, closing the gap between them. He looked at her, his eyes filled with rage and hate. The anger was growing evident, just swimming in his eyes. But Bulma found herself unable to stop her mouth.

"Everyone seems to think that your years with Frieza has made you the way you are," Bulma continued, her voice in mock concern. "That perhaps the destruction of your planet, your family – your race – has made you build a wall around your emotions, causing you to only show hate to anybody who's dared to try to get close to you."

"And I'm sure you know better," Vegeta said through clenched teeth.

"Yeah, I do," Bulma whispered, her voice suddenly dropping. "Frieza's beatings and torments aren't what made you the way you are."

"Then what?" Vegeta asked, blood beginning to drip from his clenched fists. Suddenly, his rage could no longer be contained. He forcefully grabbed Bulma shoulders, pinning her against the wall.

The lights went out with another crash of thunder, causing Bulma to laugh at her situation. The lights came back on, revealing to her the deadly threat in Vegeta's eyes. "Then what is it?" he hissed at her, his face closer to hers than she liked.

Suddenly, Bulma gazed into his eyes. Realization began to run through her. Her sanity began to return and she was finally thinking clearly once again. She gasped at the horror in his eyes. She had obviously crossed the line, and now her blood froze within her with fear.

"What?" Vegeta repeated in a whisper, his hot breath dancing on her lips.

"It's the fact you're the way you are," Bulma whispered.

Vegeta's eyes narrowed once again. "You're not making sense, Bulma," he growled.

"It's the fact that you let Frieza make you the way you are – that you are the way you are," Bulma explained in a soft voice.

Vegeta's eyes widened. "I'm sick of this game!" he yelled.

"Only when you're the one losing!" Bulma yelled. "You didn't mind the game before!"

"You have no idea what the reason was behind my actions," Vegeta hissed, "so don't assume you do."

"And you don't know the reasons behind mine!" Bulma yelled as she pushed Vegeta away. Strangely enough, he let her.

"You can't just start me thinking this way," Bulma cried, "and then leave me with nothing."

"You want more?" Vegeta yelled, grabbing Bulma's shoulders, pulling her to him. "I hate this planet with its humans and stupid emotions – and I hate _you_!"

Bulma's eyes narrowed as he brought his face to hers. "Now tell me, dear," he whispered, "what is _your_ greatest hate?"

Bulma's gaze never left his. She found herself not being able to pull away from his eyes. She felt the hot tears filling her eyes. She struggled with her mind and her emotion to keep the tears back. She had been able to control her tears around him thus far, but now she found she wasn't sure if she could control the feeling of helplessness that engulfed her. Her legs were beginning to lose their strength and would indeed give out soon.

But Bulma still found the courage to keep her gaze on his without letting her tears fall. "I hate," she whispered, "the fact that I can't hate _you_."

Bulma saw Vegeta's eyes widen with fear – an emotion she had never seen clearly in his eyes before. She only got to witness it for a moment, however, for there was another crash of thunder, followed by an utter darkness.

Silence. With only darkness surrounding her, Bulma wouldn't have known he was still there if it wasn't for the fact she could feel his light breath on her face. Dead silence pierced her ears, ringing with uncertainty.

"Vegeta?" Bulma finally asked in a whisper that was almost inaudible.

Suddenly, Bulma felt his warm hands lightly encircling her waist. Before she could ask what he was doing, Bulma felt his warm lips pressed against hers.

Bulma was no longer treading in deep waters – she was now drowning in it - with nobody to pull her to safety.


	16. Paused

_Suddenly, Bulma felt his warm hands lightly encircling her waist. Before she could ask what he was doing, Bulma felt his warm lips pressed against hers._

_Bulma was no longer treading in deep waters – she was now drowning in it - with nobody to pull her to safety._

**Possession**

Chapter 16 - Paused

The falling of rain had begun to soften outside. Thunder rumbled, but its crashing sounds were no longer effective.

Bulma stood in the dead silence as darkness surrounded her. She blinked once, hoping her eyes would adjust, but with no such luck. A flash of lightning lit up the room for a split second. Taking advantage of the little light she had been granted, she peered in front of her.

Vegeta's eyes were fixed on her, but they didn't have that same cloudiness about them. They revealed to her his true self - they held no fear, no comfort, no torture - only discovery. And what a discovery he had made.

Just as quickly as the light had danced in the room, it had escaped, leaving the pair in darkness once again. Bulma bit her bottom lip, her eyes falling to the ground she could no longer see. The hand that had been wrapped around her waist suddenly pulled her closer.

Bulma closed her eyes, shivering lightly as she felt her body being pressed against his. She took in a breath, waiting for whatever it was that was coming next.

She could feel his hot breath on her cheek as her eyes lightly opened, wanting to know what exactly was going to happen. She swallowed hard, waiting in that terrible silence.

A soft thunder rolled in the distance. It was beginning to calm down in the late night. Bulma wondered what time it really was.

A low chuckle broke the silence. It was low, but it echoed in Bulma's ears.

Bulma tensed, wondering if maybe Vegeta was beginning to lose it, much like she had earlier - most likely from the need of sleep. Sleep. Why was it…

"This," she heard him whispered into her ear, "is what I know of shame."

Bulma tried to take a step back but found herself being held in place.

"_You_ feel shame?" Bulma asked skeptically in a hoarse voice.

She thought the bluntness of her question would earn an angry remark from him, but was proven wrong as it was greeted with another low chuckle.

"_You_," he whispered into her ear, his grip on her tightening, "_are_ my shame."

"_I've_ done nothing to cause you shame," Bulma muttered under her breath, "you've earned it yourself."

A small chuckle was heard yet again as Bulma felt Vegeta's hand rubbing her back, almost in a comforting manner. Her eyes getting heavy, she realized just how tired she was. As she fought the urge to rest her head on his shoulder, Vegeta continued to whisper, "It's only shame if I feel regret."

It was odd to feel his hand gently gliding up and down her back. It was odd the way he was finding some sort of dark humor in everything she said. It was odd that he seemed to be opening up just a little. The whole situation just seemed odd.

"What is it about me you regret?" Bulma asked, her voice growing even weaker from exhaustion, but she knew he could hear her none the less.

Silence. That's all she was greeted with - silence. Maybe it was too much for her to expect an answer from him anyway.

"Just know that I feel it," he finally said.

There was another silence. This one, however, wasn't to be interrupted. Bulma didn't know what to think of the situation, and she had a strange feeling that for the first time since he had come to stay with her, Vegeta didn't know what to think of her as well. In that one moment, he seemed so different to her. In her mind she agreed that they were both long due for a break from the unannounced game they had been playing with each other.

Putting this in her mind, Bulma realized that she had never felt so relaxed in his presence before. There was something about the release of frustration she had dealt him earlier, the darkness, the silence, just the way his hand was gliding up and down her back - she somehow felt comforted from her earlier worries.

Without even thinking, Bulma laid her head on his shoulder. She slowly brought her arms up, wrapping them around the man that now held her. Vegeta's hand lightly went up her neck, rubbing the back of her head.

Lightly, Bulma closed her eyes, the sounds of light rain filling her ears. Everything seemed to stop. This didn't mean anything. Nothing but a moment's peace. Dream and fantasy intertwined themselves together, bringing colorful images to Bulma's mind. Voices filled her ears, but her senses were completely numb. These soft dreams continued until a low, gruff voice broke through what was truly silence.

"It's stopped raining."

Bulma's heavy eyes opened for a short moment before closing again. She mumbled something completely incomprehensible, as she couldn't get herself to fully awaken.

She heard Vegeta saying something else, but she couldn't quite make it out. She felt her feet being lifted from the ground as she was carried out into the coldness. Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around Vegeta's neck, taking advantage of his warmth.

She wasn't sure, but she thought she felt herself slowly flying through the air, then landing softly in a familiar destination. She was brought back into warmth, lightly lain on a soft bed.

Her head on a soft pillow, and blankets being tucked around her, she felt herself completely giving in to the sleep that was engulfing her, but not before hearing him whisper, "Your foolishness has gotten you farther than anybody else who's tried. But where will it get _us_?"

With that, his presence was completely withdrawn from hers.

Bulma awoke late the next morning. She more than likely would have awaken much later if it wasn't for the coldness that had drowned itself in her room. Pulling the covers farther up over her head, she shivered and trembled, her mind really not comprehending why. Not being able to stand it any longer, she poked her head out from under the covers. This little act led her to discover the reason for such coldness: her balcony doors had been left open.

Growling with impatience, and the thought of knowing she had to get up into the coldness, she made her way over to the balcony. The sight she beheld completely took her by surprise. The grass was faded, turning brown from the frozen ground. The trees were no longer green and full of life, but were covered in burnt colors that revealed that summer was no longer here. A harsh wind blew across the yard, causing Bulma to wrap her arms around herself from such an unneeded insult. A single, red leaf circled through the path of the wind, landing right by Bulma's feet. She stepped back, her face now facing the wind that blew her short, blue hair. The leaf that was once alive and carefree, was now red with a blood from the beatings it took from a dominating wind that now controlled its path. And as the life of a beautiful, young, intelligent woman of earth was so tempting, the leaf had no choice but to follow the wind's path that now blew it from the balcony to an unknown destination. No person would now know the tortures that waited for such a once beautiful mystery of nature.

And now Bulma's attention turned toward the opposite direction of the leaf's path - the gravity chamber. Oddly enough, it wasn't running. Bulma's eyes lit up with a glimmer of hope. With only one question running through her mind, she quickly shut the balcony doors and headed for a long, hot bath.

Emerging from her bath, Bulma ran down the stairs to where her mother was cleaning up from breakfast, her father sat reading the paper, and Vegeta was about to head out the door.

"Vegeta!" Bulma cried out, trying to catch him before he left.

Bulma's mother continued her chore as she lightly hummed the tune of some happy ditty. Her father, however, slowly lowered the paper, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible about his sudden interest in the conversation that was to ensue.

Vegeta stopped abruptly at Bulma's voice. Bulma felt almost hurt as she noticed he cringed a bit at her voice saying his name.

"Make it fast," was the reply.

"You haven't begun training, yet?" Bulma asked hopefully, "So you slept in?" she asked eagerly. She bit her bottom lip in anticipation, taking a few anxious steps toward him. When he didn't answer she decided she'd try again. "So how'd you sleep last night?"

The joy that was dancing in Bulma's eyes suddenly disappeared as she noticed Vegeta's fists clenching at his sides. Maybe she had been right after all.

"I didn't sleep at all," he muttered to her angrily, "I was waiting for your father to fix the gravity machine. It had automatically shut itself down, _remember_?"

"Oh," Bulma said under her breath, "I should have known."

"How'd _you_ sleep last night?" Vegeta asked, suddenly turning to face her.

"I," Bulma began, "slept well. Well, until I awoke to a freezing bedroom."

"You're room was cold, dear?" Bulma's mother broke in. "Oh, my, we should get that fixed! You could get sick! Let me take your temp…"

"You left the balcony doors open," Bulma ignored her mother, continuing the subject with Vegeta.

Vegeta's eyes suddenly fell to the floor. He swallowed hard, his fists releasing at his side.

Bulma took a few steps to him, trying to get a good look at his face since it was now facing down to the ground. "You left them open the last time you came to my room, also," she whispered.

Vegeta's eyes widened as his head shot up to look at her. "What do you want me to say?" he yelled.

Both Bulma and her dad jumped at his sudden outburst. The only one that seemed unaffected was Bulma's mother, who continued to search for a thermometer while humming her "happy tune."

"You don't need to say anything!" Bulma yelled. "Obviously our words no longer entertain you! That's what you were saying last night, wasn't it?"

Vegeta smirked, "I think we were all enlightened last night."

Bulma blushed, her mind asking itself why her color had suddenly changed. "Yes," Bulma managed to get out her agreement.

"I think we both have a lot to think about," Vegeta commented, suddenly getting serious.

Now Bulma's eyes fell to the floor. After thinking the situation over in her mind a few moments, she slowly nodded, finding herself in complete agreement with him.

"If that is all," Vegeta remarked, "then I'll be training to help save you and this pathetic planet from these future androids."

Bulma looked up at him, watching as he turned and went out the door. "Pathetic, huh?" She wondered out loud as the door closed behind him.

A few moments passed without a word as sounds of the gravity room starting up began to fill the kitchen. It was at this point that everything seemed to go back to normal.

Bulma collapsed in one of the table chairs, putting her head in her hands.

"So?" her father began, his face hidden by the open newspaper, "what _was_ Vegeta doing in your bedroom?"

Bulma's eyes widened as a blush began to fill her cheeks once again, "Not _that_!" she exclaimed. Her father lowered his paper slowly, so he could get a look at her. Bulma could only see his eyes that were behind a thick pair of glasses. He raised an eyebrow in a questioning manner before bringing the paper back in front of his face.

"Well," he commented, pretending to have more of an interest in the paper once again, "that's good - I mean, I'd hate for Yamcha to have to return to find he had lost his fiancée to an alien."

"Dad!" Bulma playfully whined, "that's not right and you know it!"

"Hmm…" her father said in a thoughtful manner. He only shrugged, continuing with his paper.

"Winter's practically here," Bulma said slowly, "he better get home before I, too, am lost in this dreadful winter."

"Found it, dear!" Bulma's mother suddenly exclaimed.

"Found what?" Bulma asked, not sure she wanted to know.

"The thermometer!" her mother exclaimed, suddenly shoving the object into Bulma's mouth. Bulma rolled her eyes and muttered a, "shut up," as she heard a chuckling coming from behind the open newspaper.

After everyone had gone asleep that night, Bulma stayed up with a book on the couch with a fire lit. With a quilt to cover her and a clear, winter sky shining through the large window, she waited. Glancing once again at the window, as she had done many times already that night, she noted how the sky was always so much clearer in the winter than the summer. Her thoughts began to wander as she heard a door opening and closing. Footsteps were quickly approaching, so Bulma reverted her eyes back to her book as she waited expectantly.

"What are _you_ doing up?" a gruff, and unenthusiastic voice asked just as a shadow appeared over the book she had been reading.

"Waiting," Bulma answered, putting her book next to the couch and rising to meet the speaker. "I want to show you something."

"Woman, I'm not in the mood…" Vegeta began, but was cut off.

"Pause," she said quickly, trying to drag Vegeta to the window, "the game has been paused." When she finally got him to the window, Bulma stood behind Vegeta, guiding his vision with her index finger.

"There," she pointed, "you see that star?"

Vegeta's eyes narrowed as his gaze pierced the blackness that had long since formed itself outside. "The tinted one?"

"Yes," Bulma whispered unaware how close her lips were to his ear; "It's planet Vegeta."

Vegeta's brow lowered dramatically as he shook his head, "You're crazy, woman," he said in a stoic tone. "You know as well as I do the planet was destroyed by Frieza." He turned around to her, his eyes piercing at her with such a fierceness that could bring even King Yemma to his knees. Bulma's heart sank as she noticed the look in his eyes.

"You look hurt," she whispered.

"I'm going…"

"to bed?" Bulma questioned.

"to the kitchen - to get something to eat."

"You think I betrayed you?" Bulma asked.

Vegeta froze, giving her a questing look that begged her to continue.

"You don't look hurt from the mention of your planet," Bulma explained. Vegeta smirked, something new shining in his eyes. "It's," Bulma continued, "because you think I betrayed you."

"How?"

"You think I'm still playing games with your head," Bulma went on, "I told you the game was on pause, and now you think I'm still playing."

"You're something else," Vegeta shook his head, turning toward the kitchen.

"But," Bulma stopped him once again, "I'm not playing games."

Interested, Vegeta turned to face her. After a moment of silence Vegeta grew irritated with her delaying. "Explain yourself."

Bulma turned back to the window, facing the starry sky once more. "Planet Vegeta was so far from earth," she began, almost thinking to herself. "The light that was emitted from it takes several years for it to reach earth." Bulma's head tilted as she continued to examine the sky. "We don't see the planet as it doesn't exist now, but we see how it existed years ago."

Bulma sensed Vegeta approaching her, suddenly stopping behind her. His gaze was fixed, now, on that tiny, tinted "star" that was shining in the sky.

"It's like gazing into the past," Bulma whispered.

"The only thing that proceeds the future are the past and present," Vegeta commented thoughtfully, "if we dwell on the past, we have no future."

Bulma nodded, her gaze still fixed on the sky. "But if we continuously worry about the future, then where's the present?"

After a period of silence Bulma turned to find Vegeta's gaze was now fixed on her. "It's all hopeless, Bulma," he told her in a serious tone.

"Then you've given up?" Bulma asked, in the midst of surprise.

"Completely."

"Then you're even more foolish than I thought."

With her last words spoken, Bulma departed for her bedroom, leaving Vegeta behind with his thoughts. Vegeta turned, his gaze falling upon an empty and dark kitchen. "I'm not sure how wise it is to continue foolishness. It's all become a game of possession, and I fear that it's a game nobody can win."


	17. Crossing Wires

**AN:** I redid this chapter many times. I'm still not satisfied with it, but it's an important chapter none-the-less. o.o;;

**Possession**

Chapter 17 - _Crossing Wires_

Teardrops painted the night sky with a solitude that reached with out-stretched arms for a warm embrace from the black void that would forever be known as "darkness." The blackness pierced the night, flooding itself over the earth, the land, the city, a compound known as Capsule Corp. It was utterly impossible to ignore such a darkness that engulfed the night; it would drown anything, and everything that would let its deceiving arms wrap around them. And so the stars were absorbed. They were absorbed in getting its rightful attention. Tiny diamonds that deserved the gaze of those lost in the insatiable darkness. So absorbed were these tiny tears, that their duty had been overlooked - guidance.

And as the darkness continued its chaos, and the stars continued their confused duties, Bulma was sitting awake; wide-awake. In the darkness of the room, the cold kitchen, she sat on a counter. Her back against the refrigerator, she sipped her hot tea. Eyes closed, senses dulled, she felt -relaxed. Tea often had this affect on her. Coffee, with its bitter, yet somehow appealing taste, served to help what her mind struggled to do, but her body tried to forbid. Tea, however, could make her whole being content; and it was just what she needed.

Lately, she found it harder and harder to hide the anger that had begun to swell up inside her. This was usually an impossible task to Bulma anyway. But this anger was something different. It didn't come in a moment, was allowed release, then gone without another moment's thought, as her anger often traveled through her. This started as a deep sadness. A sadness that grew into what was almost depression, but Bulma wouldn't allow that. After all, it was _his_ loss in his avoiding her. _She_ had done nothing wrong. _She_ could help him, if he'd allow her to. But no. He'd much rather spend his time avoiding her. He spent a lot of time avoiding her, actually. Or maybe it wasn't so much the amount of time he spent avoiding her, but rather the lack of time he spent seeking her out. Now what?

The question rolled through her mind time and time again. It was startling to think that perhaps he had actually given up. Exactly what he had given up on, she wasn't sure. She hadn't gotten that far, yet, and it was cruel for him to leave her alone the way he did. When she actually felt like she was getting a hold on something, he just completely dropped it. From this sadness, she had gotten frustration. And from this frustration, anger. And now these past few days, for lack of a better word, she found herself extremely…pissed.

But not now. Not when she was getting her release. Bulma sighed as she took yet another sip of tea. The hot liquid ran through her body, pouring through her veins, relaxing her with every passing moment.

She wasn't sure exactly how long it had been since their last conversation. The one he had completely given up on her. She didn't try pushing him into opening up anymore. Rather, she just waited for him. And she waited - for days, weeks, months - she was beginning to wonder if maybe he really had given up. But what was it exactly he was giving up on? She wasn't even quite sure what she had gotten herself into, and was a bit uncertain with herself for wanting it to continue.

And the night continued on with the ticking of the clock. Each moment made evident with each small sound from the device that kept track of the intervals of time.

"Oh, dear!"

Bulma's head turned with the intruding voice as the lights suddenly came on. Her eyes narrowed, trying to regulate the penetrating light. After her eyes had adjusted, Bulma could clearly see her father. He stood without his glasses in his nightclothes and slippers. The ever-present cat was, of coarse, on his shoulder.

"Dad?" Bulma finally got out. "What are _you_ doing up?"

Her father took a moment to recover from his obvious shock at finding Bulma in the kitchen so late an hour. His eyes narrowed as he tried to focus on her, which proved to be more challenging at the moment, due to a combination of his eyes adjusting to the lights, and the absence of his thick glasses. "Well," her father began, "I just came to get a glass of warm milk."

"Can't sleep?" Bulma asked, turning from her position on the counter, allowing her legs to hang over the edge.

"Apparently I'm not the only one," her father answered with a nod in her direction.

Suddenly there was the sound of running water from a distance. Upstairs, somebody was running the shower.

"Well," Bulma whispered, gazing up at the ceiling as if she could see through it, "it seems we're not alone in that area."

Her father glanced up, also, before turning back to Bulma. A curious expression crossed his face, but was quickly dismissed as he headed for the refrigerator.

"Only thing is," Bulma continued, as her gaze was still fixed at the ceiling, "_we_ can find various ways to get ourselves asleep. It's like he doesn't know how, or doesn't care to find out. He just roams around the entire night, trying to occupate his mind. He acts as a sort of ghost in this compound." Bulma sighed as her gaze slowly crept from the ceiling and found its way to the floor. "Do you know what long periods without sleep can do to a mind?"

Her father stood at the stove with the jug of milk in his hand. He glanced her way in a curious manner, before continuing what he had begun. "Well," he began his reply while turning on the stove, "you may cross the wrong wires."

"Huh?" Bulma's eyes finally turned to him as her head tilted in question to his answer.

"Remember when you went without sleep to finish the GR," her father explained as he began heating up his milk, "we were doing the finishing touches. You almost crossed the wrong wires."

"Oh," Bulma answered simply, looking back down to the floor.

"It's a good thing I was there to guide you," her father went on, "though you know everything you needed to know to finish the GR, you're still only human. And humans make mistakes. All species do, I'm beginning to realize." The running water stopped, and both Bulma's and her father's eyes glanced to the ceiling. "Even arrogant Saiyans."

Bulma's mouth opened slightly, and then she turned to her father who was still gazing at the ceiling.

"Things won't always turn out the way you planned, Bulma," her father continued on. "Sometimes you start avoiding a mighty river to keep yourself safe. But when you start wading in the waters, and even stray enough to tread in them, you'll find you have to change your plans. It's just better in the end."

"But what if you get caught in the current?" Bulma asked as she eyed her empty cup of tea.

"Then you need to get yourself out before you're in too deep," was her father's response as he got a cup and began to pour his milk into it.

"What if I'm already in too deep?"

"Then you need to _go with the flow_ and let yourself drift on shore," her father replied, his eyes narrowing as he tried to pour his milk.

"You want help?" Bulma asked, "I can pour it since you don't have your glasses."

"I've got it," her father replied, "it'll just take a little extra work, is all. I'm not completely blind without my glasses, Bulma. I'll just have to make way with what I have, and rely a bit more on other senses to help guide me through." With that, he had finished pouring his milk. He smiled in his victory. "You see?" he declared as he turned and left the kitchen.

Bulma let out a weary smile as she hopped off the counter. She made her way to the doorway, flipping off the lights. She turned for a moment and gazed upon the dark kitchen. "What if I'm already too deep," she softly whispered to the consuming darkness, "and I'm left here to drown?" With that, she turned and began her way up the stairs.

Bulma entered her room, softly closing the door behind her. She sighed with the relief the tea had brought her. Though she knew her thoughts would never let her be at peace, she came to terms with it, for it was a curse that all geniuses must suffer. Bulma untied her robe, letting it slide to the floor. She made her way to her bed, taking in a long breath as she felt the soft blankets beneath her. Pulling the blankets back, she slid her legs under them, a small smile creeping across her lips at the feel of her smooth legs gliding under the fresh sheets.

Bulma slowly closed her eyes, welcoming what sleep that might make its way to her. It wouldn't come, however. She'd turn, she'd toss - and she hated that. Now she was going to be behind in her work tomorrow - and there was nothing she could do about it.

Bulma rolled on her back, letting out a deep sigh. She gazed up at the ceiling. It was dark, but shadows danced. They were those created by the light of the moon and the curtains to her balcony. How swiftly they'd move in the light wind.

One of Bulma's eyebrows rose. She let out a low growl, throwing the blankets back. She swung her legs over her bed, making her way to the balcony doors. They weren't fully open, just cracked open a bit. She sighed yet again, starting to close the door when she noticed a dark figure outside.

Bulma's eyes narrowed as her eyes focused in the darkness, outlining a figure that stood on the balcony, leaning over the edge, staring up at the clear sky in a thoughtful manner.

"Vegeta?" Bulma spoke in a whisper.

Vegeta let out a sigh before asking in annoyance, "What is it, woman?"

Bulma opened the balcony door a bit, taking a single step into the coldness. "What are you doing on my balcony."

There was a pause before the answer came. "Thinking."

"Well, can't you do it on your own balcony?" she asked.

"It's not _my_ balcony. It's _your_ balcony. Everything in my possession belongs to you." His voice was low and menacing. He added with a growl, "and I hate you for it."

"Think of it as an exchange for your services," Bulma added coldly, not liking the way that he was speaking to her. "You defeat these terrible androids, and I'll supply you with a place to stay." She rolled her eyes before adding, "It wouldn't hurt for you to be a _bit_ more appreciative of what we do for you, though."

"Don't," he commanded strongly, "speak to me in such a manner. I'm above you and deserve your respect."

Bulma's mouth dropped. She walked across to the middle of the balcony; angry by the way he was speaking to her, and even angrier at the fact he wouldn't turn to face her. "You, you so-called 'prince,' have done _nothing_ to deserve _my_ respect! You may have had a higher title, but it is only a title, Vegeta. As far as _I'm_ concerned, you are only greater than me in physical strength. I have original thoughts, morals, not to mention an intelligence that many men of any race would do anything for." When he made no move to reply, Bulma continued. "You've disrespected me, you've messed with my mind, you've _physically_ harmed me, you've violated me - my word, Vegeta! What makes you even _think_ you deserve an ounce of respect from me?"

There was silence for a long while. Bulma didn't know if he was taking in her words, or just ignoring her altogether - he seemed to be doing that a lot lately. She turned to go inside. Her bed clothing was hardly anything that could protect her from the harsh coldness. She quickly wondered how Vegeta could stand the cold so long, but dismissed it as she made her way to the door that led to her room.

She stopped however at the sound of his voice. "If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?"

Bulma turned, slightly shocked. Had he not heard anything she had just said to him?

"It's cold, Vegeta," she sighed in annoyance, "I'm going inside."

"Very well," he replied, standing. He followed her, also walking into her room.

"Where do you think _you're_ going?" Bulma asked as soon as he walked into her room.

"You didn't answer my question, yet," he replied, walking past her, examining the room as he did so. "What one thing would you change?"

Bulma sighed in growing anger, "I don't know! I wish I could read people better."

Even in the dark, Bulma could see Vegeta shaking his head in disapproval. "That'd be a wasted wish."

Bulma let out a small growl. "And what would _you_ change of _yourself_?" she challenged.

"You mistake my meaning," Vegeta explained. "You have a talent for reading others - it'd be a waste to wish for something you already have."

Bulma stood, still by the balcony doors, confused. She watched as Vegeta made his way to the balcony doors, finishing the process of shutting them so no more cold air could make its way into her room. He opened one of the curtains slightly, however, gazing out at the sky. "You misunderstand a lot of things," Vegeta commented in a low voice, "maybe that'd be something to change." His head tilted slightly as he continued looking up at the stars, shaking his head. "Gazing into the past," he softly whispered, more to himself.

Bulma's eyes narrowed. She stared down at the carpet of her floor. She hated how he could confuse her to no end. However, she couldn't hate _him_, and that annoyed her the most.

"I'm not the only one to misunderstand you, Vegeta," Bulma whispered.

"No, I guess not," he replied. "I guess I'm just destined to be misunderstood."

Bulma bit her lip. A soft smile graced her lips as she commented to herself out loud, "To be great is to be misunderstood."

Vegeta turned to her, his eyes asking her to explain. Bulma blushed, not really meaning to say it out loud. "A great philosopher once said that," she softly explained.

"This philosopher must be foolish," Vegeta answered in a harsh tone. "No greatness comes from being misunderstood."

Bulma walked to where Vegeta stood. His eyes turned back to the stars. She wondered if maybe he was thinking upon their last conversation before he had supposedly "given up."

"You know what's funny," Bulma whispered, joining him in his stargazing. "Humans used to think that the earth was the center of the universe."

Vegeta rolled his eyes, "That just proves how foolish you humans really are."

"There was a man," Bulma continued, "Galileo - he didn't believe that. He believed the earth revolved around the Sun. His beliefs, though, got him in trouble with the church. Other scientists attacked him, charging him with heresy."

"Don't you just hate irony?" Vegeta asked in a morbidly amused voice.

Bulma swallowed before continuing. "His students, however - they really thought he was something great. Now he's known as one of the greatest astronomers."

There was a silence between the two for a while. Bulma continued looking up at the stars until she felt two dark eyes piercing into her. She turned to find him studying her, as if trying to reach a decision about her. His burning eyes looked her up and down, making her feel more and more self-conscious.

Finally he smirked, shaking his head.

"What?" Bulma asked, feeling somewhat offended, though she wasn't sure why.

"Hormones."

"What?" Bulma asked, even more puzzled.

"You asked what I would change about myself. That's my answer - hormones," he replied.

Bulma raised an eyebrow, finding herself becoming even more confused. Deciding they had spoken enough for one night, Bulma made her way to the door, opening it, revealing the hallway to him. She gestured for him to leave.

Vegeta walked to the door, but stopped before exiting. He closed the door, turning to Bulma, who was now starting to find it hard to breathe.

"You're an attractive woman, Bulma," Vegeta observed in a low voice.

Bulma froze, finding herself unable to move. He was acting strange and she was beginning to find it unnerving. She glanced up at his eyes. They were shielded, as usual. There was a glint of something, however. A small black fire burning within those coal orbs.

Vegeta slowly rose a hand, letting it softly rest on her head. His fingers entangled themselves in her hair, then glided down the side of her face, lightly grazing her neck. His hand came to rest on her shoulder, his finger playing with the strap of her nightshirt.

"I'm not asking for any kind of commitment," he whispered, "but I just need you tonight to…"

Before he could finish, Bulma found her hand raising, then in a flash it came down, making a harsh contact with his cheek. She was surprised by her strength to find his cheek red where she had smacked him. Her anger, however, was far from gone.

"First of all," she began in an angry tone, "I'm engaged, Vegeta!" She rose her left hand for Vegeta to see the ring on her finger for emphasis, though he may not know the symbol behind it. "Second of all," she continued, "I'm not some whore who sleeps with every man who comes into this house!"

Vegeta's eyes widened as he took a few steps back. His hand rested on his cheek where she had smacked him, and then his eyes turned to her evilly. He grabbed her shoulders, forcing her against the wall.

Bulma gasped as her back harshly made contact with the wall.

"How dare you raise a hand to me!" Vegeta angrily told her what trouble her action had brought her.

Bulma panicked as she saw the familiar look in his eyes. They were burning with anger - an uncontrollable anger. He squeezed her shoulders tighter, turning her wildly, and placing her against the opposite wall.

"Vegeta!" she yelled suddenly, "stop this!"

Everything seemed to stop suddenly, as she had commanded it. His hands were still gripping her shoulders, although no longer in a threatening manner. They were both breathing hard, one out of fear, one out of shock.

Bulma slowly forced her eyes to meet with his. He truly was unsure of what to think of the moment.

"You're not thinking clearly," Bulma whispered. "Vegeta, this is getting out of control. Let me help you."

"Woman," Vegeta began in a commanding tone, but it trailed off as if he forgot what he was going to say.

Bulma slowly rose a hand to lightly touch his cheek where she had slapped him. "In the middle of the night - there were many times you were hiding in the kitchen. Why is that?"

Vegeta suddenly looked at her with a flash of surprise. He shook his head wildly. "Bulma, just never mind!" he spoke angrily, "Leave it be!"

"Look what you're doing to your arms," Bulma commented softly, placing a hand on his upper arm. "Vegeta, you're working yourself too hard. Training pushes your muscles, but it's when you're sleeping that they repair themselves and actually get stronger."

Vegeta's eyes snapped to hers once more. They widened for a moment. "This is none of your concern," he whispered, his grip on her shoulders becoming even lighter.

"I want to help, Vegeta. For your sanity _and_ mine, you have to let me help you," Bulma whispered.

"I _am_ insane, aren't I?" he asked, almost fearful.

Bulma shook her head. "No," she whispered, "just crossing wires. When a being lacks sleep, they can't think straight. Too long without sleep, and they begin to hallucinate things - they _see_ things, Vegeta."

Vegeta's gaze turned to the ground, as if he were falling into some deep thought. He glanced back up at her. "I've tried," he finally admitted, releasing her. He walked over to her bed, sitting on its edge. "It's hopeless, Bulma. It's all hopeless."

Bulma sat behind him, her hands immediately finding the back of his neck. "You'd be surprised by my talents," she smiled as she began to message her fingers into his skin.

"Bulma, I don't think," Vegeta began before Bulma broke him off.

"Just relax," she whispered.

Vegeta closed his eyes as Bulma kneaded her hands into his back. Vegeta turned shortly, stopping all her actions.

Bulma looked up at him in a questioning manner. Finally she asked, "What have I done to shame you?"

"Everything you do shames me," he whispered, his hand making its way to her waist. Slowly he pulled her closer.

"Then why do you insist on pursuing this?" Bulma asked in a whisper.

"Bulma," he quietly whispered into her ear, forcing a chill to run down her spine. "Why do you shiver?" he asked as he ran a hand down her arm.

"Why do you hate me?" Bulma asked.

"Because what you do to me," he whispered, his lips brushing her ear.

"What do I do? I'll stop," she pleaded, staring straight ahead of her. His hands were running up her side, causing her to lose control of her breath.

"You're heart is racing," Vegeta observed, "I've hardly done anything to you."

"Vegeta," Bulma whispered, "don't go any further."

"Let me taste you," he whispered.

Bulma shook her head; "I can't do that."

"Very well, then," he responded, "but stay with me tonight."

Bulma nodded slightly, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Vegeta wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her under the covers with him. He pulled her close, pressing her body against his, taking in the scent of her hair.

"Now get some sleep, Vegeta," Bulma whispered as she, herself, sank into a deep sleep.


	18. A Need to Possess

**Possession**

Chapter 18 – _A Need to Possess_

The morning shone through the window, dusted light creeping its way in through the glass, resting upon the floor. This morning, this light, however, didn't reach the bed. It was limited by the length of the glass and the harsh Sun that could no longer stretch its rays to their full length, for the Sun's full power was being left behind in the dead winter. No matter how much the Sun may long for full power, it was unattainable at this moment. However, it refused to give up, and so, would shine with what strength it had. It rested at night, and then would rise once again in the morning to work for something so impossible. But when summer came, it would prove itself among the inhabitants of West City. For it will be, at that time, that the Sun will be able to show its true, full power once again.

Bulma slowly opened her eyes, fighting the urge to just curl up against the warmth beside her and stay asleep until the summer did come. Her arm tingled as it, too, had been "asleep." Bulma bit her lip as the tingling sensation took over her whole arm as she tried to move it. She looked up to see what possibly could have made it fall asleep during her own slumber. With the dim light that was in the room, Bulma could see that her arm was currently resting under Vegeta's head. Her other arm was still wrapped around his neck. His arms were firmly wrapped around her waist, continuously holding her close to him. Bulma tilted her head back, letting out a small chuckle at the situation she was currently in. She then buried her head in his shoulder, deeply inhaling as she began to assess what it was she was going to do. She giggled once more when she found herself enjoying his scent.

He was so…clean. Well, obviously, for he showered before their little meeting the night before. She had never noticed before, though, how much she enjoyed the scent of ivory soap radiating from him, making him seem so fresh. Of course, this couldn't change the fact that this was Vegeta. Yamcha could smell just as good. Bulma smiled at the memory of her fiancé. She frowned realizing this wasn't the man she was in bed with now.

Of coarse, they didn't "sleep" together…they only slept…together…in the same bed. There's a completely different meaning there. Bulma let out a deep sigh. If she had caught Yamcha is such a suggestive scene, she wouldn't be too pleased. With that in mind, Bulma rolled her eyes as she began to rise up. There was still the matter of her "sleeping" arm. She slowly started to move her arm from under Vegeta's head, not really caring if she woke him up, but trying not to cause too much discomfort in her arm.

As the tingling returned once again, Bulma found herself biting on her lip, letting out a small, frustrated moan.

"Bulma," came Vegeta's voice.

Bulma looked down to find his eyes were still close, and his breathing still rhythmic. Her eyes narrowed when he finished speaking, "would you shut up and go back to sleep?"

"How long have you been awake?" she asked in annoyance.

His eyes remained closed, and he still seemed to be asleep. The only clue that gave him away was his speaking. "Long enough to hear your insane giggling and erotic moans."

"There was nothing _erotic_ about it, Vegeta," Bulma informed him, tugging at her arm, trying to ignore the tingling that took place every time she tried to move it, "so don't flatter yourself."

"I didn't say I caused your moaning," Vegeta said with equal annoyance, "I only said I found it erotic."

"Look," Bulma pleaded, "could you _please_ get off my arm!"

A frown crossed Vegeta's face. After a moment, he finally opened his eyes, black holes piercing into blue oceans. One set of eyes were dark, mysterious, unknown, and frightening. The other, deep, clear, also mysterious, but alluring. Vegeta sat up, releasing her arm.

Bulma immediately removed her arm, sighing with relief as she began to rise from the bed. She felt Vegeta grab her wrist, and in a flash, she was on her back, under him. Bulma's heart was beating from the unexpected change in position. She caught her breath, regaining her composure enough to send an icy glare to the dark man that was gazing down at her with amusement in his eyes.

He lowered his head, burying it in her neck. Bulma's eyes widened, suddenly frightened by what he'd do next. Nothing came, however. Nothing but a deep inhalation from him. He slowly exhaled, his hot breath dancing on her neck, sending a chill down her spine that was surprisingly warm. She felt his nose rub against her neck as his mouth made its way to her ear. His hot breath was now on her ear and was exaggerated with each word he spoke. "You smell good."

Bulma tried to get up with the strength of her frustration. "I'm glad you approve- now let me up."

She was forced back down, however, as Vegeta let out a soft chuckle. "It's not often I approve of someone. Enjoy it," he stated in an almost commanding tone. "What are you afraid of, Bulma? I won't hurt you. I won't go any further than you allow me. I only want to lay here with you." His tone was anything but sweet. It was commanding and annoyed.

"Why?" Bulma asked in suspicion. When she received no answer, she grew angry. "Well, you've already gone farther than I can approve, so will you please get off me?"

Vegeta lifted his head so he was able to look her in the eyes with a gaze that could pierce the fiercest soul. He lowered his head, his breath dancing on her lips. "It's funny how much more tempting you become when you don't even realize how seductive you're actions are. That's why I found your moans so erotic."

Now Bulma looked up at him in confusion. "You're strange, you know that?" she asked with sincere curiosity.

Vegeta tilted his head, taking in her statement. "Let's sleep," he whispered to her, "I don't mean sex…I just want to sleep."

"We've slept all night…"

"The first in weeks…months…I don't know how long…but it's been too long," he said in a warning tone.

"Then go to _your_ room and sleep. I have no problem with that. I have work to do today. I can't just sleep here because you need a bed warmer."

"Fine," Vegeta said, suddenly releasing her, "You only wanted a laugh."

Bulma's brows furrowed in confusion. Saiyans were strange, but Vegeta was an enigma all in his own. Did _he_ even know what he wanted?

Bulma rose off the bed, walking into the light that had managed to make its way into the room. Narrowed eyes softened at the sight of a deep, red leaf that had been blown by the window from a strong wind that seemed to be whispering some secret to the trees that had forced out the leaves from their previous home. Now the leaves were left, abandoned, to follow where the wind led them. Bulma sighed as she began to turn, "I'm…Vegeta?" Bulma turned in time to see her bathroom door shutting. "Hey!" Bulma cried out – her bathroom was private territory.

"Vegeta!" she yelled through the closed door, "what are you doing?"

She heard running water, the sound making her growl with frustration. "That's not fair! You showered last night! I want hot water!"

"Woman," came Vegeta's voice, "just go to your 'work' and do what you need to do."

"No!" Bulma shouted, pounding on the door. After realizing he was still in _her_ bathroom, she gave up her pounding. "You whore," she muttered at the door."

"Things aren't always as they appear," came his voice from the other side, "except for the fact that you're _not_ a whore."

"Sorry to disappoint you," Bulma said, sarcasm dripping from her tongue.

The water suddenly stopped. It stopped quickly, causing Bulma to become suspicious. "Vegeta?"

Suddenly the door burst open, and Vegeta was in front of her, dressed in sweatpants and a shirt. "I don't find it disappointing," he informed her in a low voice. "The only thing I find disappointing is that you're still plagued with the thought of that…that…_human_."

"I'm a human too, Vegeta!" Bulma hollered. "If you think so lowly of humans, why am I so intriguing to you?"

"You're better than that," Vegeta hissed. "You're not like all the other arrogant…humans," he said the word with venom, "out there. You know how to play the game."

"Oh!" Bulma said, suddenly enraged with this new information. "Because I partake in your sick games, I have gained your approval!"

"Not only can you play the game, but you're nearly winning!" Vegeta hissed, keeping his voice urgent, but low. "You've proven me wrong, Bulma. Don't you see it? In the beginning of all this, I wanted to break you, show you what fear is. But you knew how to fight back…and it intrigues me! You know just the right words to say to get me to feel emotions…and I don't care if it's sadness, darkness, or emptiness – you raise them from me! And I want more of it! Make me feel hurt, Bulma."

"I can't hurt a stone wall," Bulma whispered.

"You can do better than that," Vegeta prompted. "Make me _feel_ it"

"I don't want to even try," Bulma spat, her voice rising to a yelling. "I don't even want to waste my time on something as pathetic as _you_! Look at you! You're waiting around, trying to gain revenge against someone who has done nothing, but stolen your honor! Never mind that he destroyed your worst enemy! Never mind that he represents the last of your race! What am I saying? You don't even care! You only seek honor. Let me tell you, Vegeta, that honor doesn't come to washed-up warriors who are as pathetic as yourself. That's right, washed up. You can train all you need to, but once those androids arrive, you will _die_. Goku will save the day once again, and within a year's time, you'll be forgotten, only mentioned as the time a mistake was made when you were wished back from the dead. Goku has a wife and son to carry on his legacy. You have nobody. Nobody would even _want_ to carry on _your_ legacy. Make you feel? I'm a deep woman with so much to offer, and you shall never discover what it's like to be loved by me, because I would never waste so much time on someone as pathetic as you! You're not even worth my hate. Can you _feel_ that?"

Silence filled the room. Slowly, Bulma brought her hand to her mouth - the mouth that betrayed her. She slowly forced her eyes to Vegeta's. After what seemed to be an eternity of silence he spoke. "You feel satisfied?"

"No," Bulma whispered, "and I don't know what dark satisfaction _you_ could possibly get from something as that."

"You know me well," Vegeta observed, tilting his head. "You're the only one who knows how to surface such emotion in me."

"Are _you_ satisfied?" Bulma asked annoyed, "'cause now I'm sick with myself! Thanks, Vegeta, I appreciate it!"

She began to walk away when Vegeta grabbed her wrist, forcing her to turn around and face him.

"Let me go," she hissed.

"I won't be _satisfied_," Vegeta said through clenched teeth, his face only inches from hers, "until I'm completely under your skin and I can swim through your veins, invading every part of your existence! I want to possess you, Bulma."

"Then you'll forever be here unsatisfied, Vegeta," Bulma trembled as Vegeta released her.

She quickly made her way to her door, leaving the room with the urgency that filled her entire being. She needed to get away from him. She reached for the handle, but before she could, the door flung open.

"What's going on in here!"

Bulma's eyes widened as her breath left her body. She managed to force out a single word.

"Yamcha?"


	19. A Need of Sleep II

**Possession**

Chapter 19 – _A Need For Sleep II_

"What's going on in here"

"Yamcha?"

"Look who's here, dear!"

Bulma pried her eyes from Yamcha's to notice her mother behind him.

"Uh," Bulma began, very unsure of what to say, "thanks, Mom."

Her mom tilted her head, let out a grin that revealed just how oblivious the blond-haired woman was to the situation. "Well, I'll just leave you alone, then," her mom stated, turning to leave, "I'm sure you have much to catch up on."

"Yes," Yamcha said through clenched teeth, his eyes dangerously narrowed at Vegeta, "we have so much to catch up on."

With a small wave, Bulma's mother was gone.

"Yamcha, I…" Bulma began a sentence, but she could no longer think of any words. How could she possibly explain this?

At the sound of her voice, Yamcha's eyes turned to her. His face softened as he embraced his lost fiancé. "Are you okay?" he began asking, "Did he hurt you?"

A low growl emitted from Vegeta's throat at this accusation. Bulma's eyes widened. The question ran through her head once again: How could she possibly explain this? Noticing the look of concern in his eyes, Bulma knew she had to start somewhere.

"He didn't hurt me, Yamcha," she began.

"I heard you fighting, Bulma," Yamcha interrupted. "You don't have to defend _him_," he spat out the last word, sending a glare of daggers to Vegeta.

"I did nothing of the sort, _human_," Vegeta said in a low, dangerous tone. "So stop these accusations. You weren't here."

"Well," Yamcha began, his voice raising as he approached Vegeta, "it would seem to me that you're abusing Bulma…_again_."

"Things aren't always what they seem," Vegeta whispered, his eyes turning to Bulma.

Bulma's eyes narrowed. She was in a situation she truly had no idea how to get out of. She shook her head, saying the first thing that entered her mind. "Yamcha, we were only fighting over the shower. Vegeta didn't…"

"Don't you dare, Bulma!" Yamcha snapped at her, letting her know he didn't want to hear what she had to say, "Don't you dare defend that murderer!" he yelled, pointing his finger at Vegeta, keeping his eyes on Bulma.

"There's nothing to defend, human," Vegeta growled, "the only thing I've done wrong here is fall asleep with the woman. I didn't harm her in any way."

Yamcha's eyes widened. His voice suddenly fell to a concerned whisper. "Did he rape you?"

"What…No!" Bulma replied, mostly out of shock. "We only slept together. We didn't…"

"You what?" Yamcha yelled.

"I mean…wait," Bulma took a breath, "let me rephrase that."

"Bulma?" Yamcha pleaded, "what's going on?"

"I didn't mean that," Bulma tried to calm him.

"So you didn't sleep together?" Yamcha asked, almost hopeful.

"Well, yeah, but not in that…"

"Bulma," Yamcha whispered, "I can't believe you'd do this." He sent a glare to Vegeta before adding, "It's his fault isn't it? He seduced you!"

"Ahhhhrrrrr…." Bulma let out a long, frustrated growl. "I can't take this anymore! When you're ready to listen to me, call me," she yelled out of frustration, "until then, I'm leaving!"

With those few words said, Bulma stormed out of her room, hurt. She made a mistake, she was ready to admit that, but Yamcha just wasn't listening. Vegeta wasn't being much help, either. He could say _something_ on her behalf.

Bulma's eyes narrowed. "I hate men," she growled, slamming the door as she left the house, not even caring anymore that she had left Yamcha and Vegeta alone upstairs in her bedroom.

"Mom! Bulma's here!"

Bulma could hear young Gohan calling for his mother as he ran into the small house. She stepped out of her aircar approaching with exhausted steps that were only enough to keep her moving.

Soon, Chi Chi appeared at the door in an apron with a small smile. "Hey, Bulma!" she greeted, inviting Bulma to enter the house. Bulma glanced back at the tree that stood in the yard. It held a certain beauty to it that Bulma couldn't quite put her finger on. After thinking it over a moment, she turned back to Chi Chi and gave her a weak smile.

"Hey, Chi," she greeted, "is it alright if we talk?"

"Sure," Chi Chi's voice dropped, "Is something wrong, Bulma? Is it Vegeta? Has he hurt you?"

Bulma rolled her eyes. "No," she sighed, "it isn't Vegeta. Yamcha's back."

"Oh!" Chi Chi exclaimed, "You must be excited!"

"Thrilled," Bulma said with sarcasm. "Can we talk?"

"Sure," Chi Chi said once again, "I'll put on some hot water for tea."

"Thanks, Chi," Bulma smiled.

A while later, the two sat down at the table with their hot tea. It certainly was a relief. Bulma's mind was whirling in ten million different directions. Her emotional stress was physically visible. She took a moment for a deep breath, and then took another moment to savor the taste of the sweet tea Chi Chi had made her before she began speaking.

"Chi," Bulma sighed, "I'm not sure I want to marry Yamcha." There. She said it. She finally admitted the doubt that was plaguing her mind.

"Oh, Bulma," Chi Chi breathed, "Everyone has their doubts…"

"I know, I know," Bulma interrupted, "but this is different."

"How so?" Chi Chi asked, raising an eyebrow.

Bulma bit her bottom lip, contemplating how she could word such a confusing situation. "It's Vegeta," she said, softly.

Chi Chi's mouth dropped slightly, but overall, she didn't seem too shocked. "I see," Chi Chi whispered.

"Chi Chi," Bulma finally let out, "I don't know what to do!"

"So you have this thing for Vegeta?" Chi Chi asked.

Bulma shook her head, "No, no. Not like that. It's just…I don't think I'm in love with Yamcha. I'm not even sure I know what love is. I'm so confused." Bulma could feel the tears beginning to threaten her eyes. "I just…I…I don't know…"

"Bulma," Chi Chi smiled, "It's alright."

"Chi, this is a big deal!" Bulma suddenly rose, "It's _not_ alright."

"Bulma," Chi Chi rose with her, "do you love Yamcha?"

"I don't know!" Bulma shouted. "That's what I'm trying to tell you!"

"Why aren't you sure?" Chi Chi's eyes narrowed as she glared at her friend.

"Because…" Bulma began, her voice suddenly dropping as she sank back in her chair. "I don't know what love even is."

Chi Chi smiled, walking over to Bulma's chair, kneeling next to her. "Bulma," she whispered, looking her straight in the eyes, "If you don't know what love is, then I _know_ you're not in love with him."

Bulma quickly rubbed at a few tears that managed to escape, "How can you say that?"

"Bulma," Chi Chi tried to explain, letting out a deep sigh, "you'll never be able to figure out love. But once you've fallen into it, you'll know it's there."

"But," Bulma questioned, "how do you know you're in love if you don't even know what love is."

"You'll just know. There'll be no doubt. Love is beautiful and once it enters your being, it takes place over your thoughts. It makes your thinking crowded. It washes over and just fills you. It's a mystery, but it's one that's shared, and that sharing is what will get you through it."

Bulma's eyes finally met with Chi Chi's. "So," she whispered, "you'll know. There'll be no doubts. You just know."

Chi Chi nodded with a smile.

"What do I do now?" Bulma asked.

Chi Chi's smile faded as she revealed the most confusing, yet obvious set of action: "You have to tell him."

Bulma promised Chi Chi she'd tell Yamcha the truth that was bothering her so much. For the day, though, she wanted to get her mind off the whole thing. Vegeta alone had her an emotional wreck – now this whole thing with Yamcha – this wasn't good on a woman. She spent the day at the Son's house, sharing dinner with them. She noted silently the happiness of the small family. She enjoyed watching Chi Chi scold Goku for his manners at the table, and then Gohan as he tried to imitate his father. The love was there, though, that much was obvious.

Before leaving, Bulma noted once again the tree in the yard, filled with red leaves. The tree was beautiful in the summer with its green leaves and relaxing sways in a gentle breeze. But though it was beautiful when it was so alive, she noted the beauty it also held during the times of change. It seemed wiser, now, though its leaves were slowly dying. But even in its wisdom of what was to come, it still stood there, shading those under it from the harsh winds to come.

Darkness surrounded her as Bulma approached her door. She'd have to call Yamcha in the morning and talk with him. Well, they'd have to meet. She didn't want to have to explain this over the phone. She unlocked the door, slowly stepping inside, her eyes adjusting to the darkness.

Not really adjusting, for it wasn't completely dark. Two candles sat on the table, lit, and burning. Her eyes searched the room in curiosity, wondering what was going on. Suddenly, two arms surrounded her waist.

Bulma let out a gasp as she felt someone kissing her neck. She quickly turned, wiggling her way out of the person's grasp. She instinctively raised her hand, bringing it down upon the face of the violator.

"Hey…ouch…" came the familiar voice.

"Yamcha?" Bulma asked, suddenly realizing who she was hitting.

"Yeah," Yamcha let out a nervous laugh. "Where have you been?"

"Talking with Chi Chi," Bulma answered. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to apologize," Yamcha whispered, "for doubting you."

Bulma's eyes widened. Her heart skipped a beat. "Really?" she breathed.

"Yes," Yamcha answered, "I should have known you would remain faithful."

"When'd you realize this?" Bulma asked, curiosity taking over.

"Vegeta told me what had happened," Yamcha explained.

"Vegeta?" Bulma suddenly snapped back to herself. "What'd he say?"

"He said you were scared so you let him fall asleep with you. I made it clear, though, that he's to come nowhere near you now that I'm back. I mean…"

"You mean," Bulma interrupted, suddenly angry, "you didn't want to hear _me_ explain what had happened…that you'd go on believing that I was cheating on you until someone else who you barely know tells you otherwise?"

"Bulma, I didn't mean it that way…" Yamcha began.

"Yamcha," Bulma sighed, "I can't lie to you anymore."

Yamcha's eyes rose to hers, as if he were able to sense what was coming next. "Bulma, I'm sorry. We'll work this out…"

"No," Bulma shook her head. "I'm so sorry, Yamcha. I can't marry you," she finally got it out.

"Bulma?" Yamcha pleaded.

Bulma continued to shake her head. "No," she whispered. "Yamcha, look at us. Neither of us knows what we want anymore…"

"I want to be with you…"

"Listen to me!" Bulma yelled, "You don't _listen_, Yamcha! And you don't trust me, either! You were never good with trusting me. You keep saying 'we'll work on that'…how long have we been together? Yamcha, I'm sorry. This isn't going to work."

Silence filled the room. Bulma slowly closed her eyes, biting her bottom lip, hoping that this was sinking in. She didn't want to hurt him. She didn't want to break his engagement…but she needed to break hers. The sound of the clicking clock filled the room. It only ticked a few times, but the time in between each tick seemed to be hours. Finally, Yamcha broke the silence.

"Do you love him?"

"What?" Bulma asked, startled.

"Do you love him?" She could hear in his voice that he wanted the truth.

Bulma's eyes fell to the floor, as she thought for a few moments. After contemplating the complicated question, she shook her head. "No. I don't love him."

Yamcha let out a deep sigh. "I don't know what went on here while I was gone…I do know this: he's different. He's the same, but different somehow. I noticed that as I spoke with him earlier. I don't know what you did, Bulma, but you've changed him."

"I'm just as confused as you are, Yamcha," Bulma sighed, her eyes still on the floor. "He's not the only one to change, though. Somewhere along the line, he changed me, also. I don't know how, but he did."

"I see," Yamcha whispered, taking a strand of her hair in his hands. "That's too bad. I'm going to miss you."

"Yamch, I'm…"

"Don't," Yamcha interrupted. "Just give me a hug."

Bulma felt her eyes filling with tears as she wrapped her arms around his neck. She had so much she wanted to say, but she continued to let the moment pass in silence.

"I'll see you around," Yamcha whispered as he turned to leave.

Bulma still remained silent, watching him go. As the door shut behind him, she felt an overwhelming sense of emotion that was a combination of sorrow and relief. She finally did it.

Now what?

Bulma sighed. That question invaded her mind a lot as of late. She never knew what was coming next, and she never knew what her next move was. It was a different experience from what her business career had instilled in her. Yet, it was recognizable from her childhood when she'd venture out in search of the dragon balls to wish for the perfect boyfriend.

Bulma rolled her eyes. "Even Sheron can't grant a woman that."

Bulma slowly approached Vegeta, momentarily glancing up at the dark sky. It was always so much clearer in the cooler weather. She glanced back at Vegeta who was staring at the ground. She gently draped a long, warm blanket over his shoulders. His eyes were still focused on the ground. When he didn't say anything, Bulma decided to speak up.

"It's getting cold out," she whispered. He still didn't say anything, but just continued to stare at the ground. Bulma let out a sigh as she took a seat next to him. She waited in silence, deciding that talking wasn't her best tactic right now. So she decided to wait.

She looked to the ground, trying to see what it was that Vegeta was focused on. The cold ground seemed so barren, so dark, and so cold. It didn't have anything to offer, and yet it welcomed everything. And Vegeta's gaze accepted the welcoming.

Bulma's eyes turned upward, now gazing at the stars. In her mind, she made out the constellations, remembering the stories that went along with them. She was trying so hard to read that Greek in the stars, as if it were an alphabet of feelings. And she was illiterate.

"Why are you here?" Vegeta's gruff voice finally broke the silence.

"I came to get you," Bulma answered. "It's cold out here. You'll get sick."

"Saiyans don't get _sick_," was his reply.

Now Bulma's eyes fell to the ground. "Still, I'm worried. I just…"

Bulma was interrupted with Vegeta's rough voice, "It's _you_ who will get sick. Get back inside, woman."

Bulma shook her head. "Not until you're ready to come with me."

"Knock it off, Bulma," Vegeta warned. "Stop this, and get inside."

Bulma shook her head once again, silently telling him she wasn't about to leave.

Vegeta sent a fierce glare to her that almost had her running in fear. Almost. She glared right back, letting him know she wasn't about to give in. Time seemed to effortlessly pass as the two sat, glaring at each other. A dead leaf blew between the two, suddenly alerting the two of their location. Bulma let a single shiver escape to the cold that didn't go unnoticed.

"Then come here," Vegeta finally commanded.

Bulma raised an eyebrow in question as Vegeta opened his arms, opening the blanket that surrounded him. She silently approached him, stopping in front of him. She kneeled down before him, studying his face, carefully, looking for something that would give away what he could possibly be thinking.

Vegeta rolled his eyes, gently grabbing hold of her arms, and forcing her to sit in his lap. He then wrapped his arms around her, surrounding them both in the warm blanket.

After another silence, Bulma decided that it was her turn to break it.

"Yamcha told me what you said."

Vegeta didn't answer her. He simply let out a long, ragged breath.

"You confuse me, you know that?" she finally admitted. "Every time I think I have you figured out, you do something that just completely shocks me. You're an enigma – a mystery." When he didn't say anything, Bulma continued. "This whole thing is a mystery to me!" she finally cried out. "Vegeta, I can't answer the questions you ask me. I don't know the riddles you throw at me. I don't know what I feel when I'm around you anymore. It's all a mystery."

"That makes two of us, then," he said, lowly.

Bulma was silent, now. Could it be he was possibly as confused as she was?

Bulma let out a long sigh. "I'm drowning in emotion, Vegeta. I can't swim in this ocean that's been created."

"Then you're seeking the human, woman," Vegeta let out in a growl, "he's your ship of safety."

"Well," Bulma sighed, "that ship sank."

Silence.

After a while, Vegeta's gaze slowly drifted to her. There was no doubt he was confused. He didn't know what was going on any more than she did…and it wasn't often that he'd let her see that.

"So what are you doing out here?" Bulma finally asked after a long silence.

"Thinking…"

"Aren't you tired?"

"I can't sleep."

"Why?"

"I stopped questioning it."

Bulma laid her head on his shoulder, taking in his warmth and savoring the feeling of being protected from the cold. The blanket, however, wasn't enough. She'd have to go inside soon.

"I'm tired, Vegeta."

"Go to sleep."

"We both need sleep."

"I need to think."

"You need sleep."

There was a silence. Bulma sat up from her comfortable position, turning to face Vegeta. She felt a shiver run down her spine feeling his hands softly holding the blanket around her. She didn't know if it was his touch, or the fact he was attempting to shield her from the cold that caused her to shiver.

Slowly, she brought her hands to his face, forcing him to look her in the eyes.

"Let's go to sleep," she softly whispered.

There was a silence before Vegeta gave a short nod.

"Out loud," Bulma commanded in a whisper.

"Let's get some sleep, Bulma."


	20. A Need of Sleep III

**AN:** A very special thanks to **manga** and **The Eternity Dragon** for helping me with this chapter! I really appreciate the time you guys took in your advice and comments! Thank you so much!

**Possession**

Chapter 20 – _A Need of Sleep III_

Bulma rose early the next morning to an empty bed. Shivering slightly at the realization she was alone, she took in a breath before heading for the shower. A hot shower would do a lot of good. She really needed to clear her mind. The day before seemed so terribly long. So many things went wrong, and yet, somehow she knew it was right. It was like some twisted reliance on fate. She hoped, and she hoped with all she had, she wasn't making some big mistake.

She broke the engagement off with Yamcha. It was obvious they'd end up together in their childhood. It had to be even more obvious they'd one day grow apart. They were so different.

Different.

There was a difference when she broke the engagement off than when she had first broken up with him. Why was it so different? He understood. Yes, that had to be it. There was a certain understanding dancing in his eyes. It hurt, but he understood. He won't be asking for her again.

It was painful, but it didn't leave her lonely, as it did previously. Lost, yes, but lonely, no. She was lost, once again, but this time she didn't lie in her bed wondering if she'd be alone the rest of her life. No, she sought out company. Surprisingly enough, it was the company of the Saiyan guest who had resided under her roof these past months…or year? Had it been that long?

She didn't even seek out his comfort, for she knew he could offer none. She just wanted his company, and though he was reluctant at first, he gave into it, actually showing the slightest curiosity. He seemed different. When was it he changed? She never even thought about it before, but he was so different around her now. Or maybe he wasn't, perhaps she was the one who was different. Well, of coarse she'd changed, by a long shot – but what about him? Did he change as well?

Yamcha seemed to think so. He hardly even spoke with the Saiyan Prince, and yet he seemed to notice that there was something different about him. He even went as far as to think there was something between her and Vegeta.

Was there?

That was impossible. She, for one, could never fall in love with such a sadistic, arrogant alien. She wanted affection, and that something he could never give her. Even if he could, she'd never be able to return it to him. There was just no way she could fall for him. It was impossible.

But then again, it wasn't love that he was seeking…

It had been a month since Bulma broke off the engagement with Yamcha, and she found it best to keep herself busy in her lab. Not that she was hiding from some sort of painful break up, for the break up was such a relief to her. It was for the best. Rather, she was avoiding the questions from her mother, and Chi Chi, who seemed to be very curious at this point about the whole breakup and whether Vegeta had something to do with it. Bulma wasn't ready to answer such questions – she wasn't even sure what the answers were!

So she found a project to work on, and got so caught up with it that she didn't even notice when everybody suddenly stopped harassing her. She was where she should be – with her science.

Bulma bit her bottom lip, concentrating hard on the prints before her. Her eyes squinted, trying their best to focus, but with no success. Bulma's head was spinning, and her eyes were getting so heavy. But she was so close! If she could just stay awake just a bit longer, she'd have it!

Bulma slammed down her pencil, growling in protest against her need for sleep. She stormed over to her coffee pot that was now empty. She opened a cupboard, ready to make another pot of the caffeine she so desperately needed. When she found her supply to be empty, she let out a long, frustrated sigh. The whole world was against her. That had to be it.

As determined as ever, Bulma made her way to the house, sighing with relief in the pleasant weather. Lately the weather had been so confusing. One day it was beautiful, the next it felt like a cold day in December.

It was nice this night, but still a bit chilly, so Bulma pulled her lab coat shut to keep out any unwanted cold air. She took a moment to breathe in the fresh air, letting it fill her lungs and clean out her mind. Yes, it certainly was nice to have such weather. Momentarily, she glanced up at the sky. She was granted with only blackness, however. There wasn't a star in sight.

Very much disappointed in this realization, she did a slow circle, desperately trying to find a single star. None were there.

Being completely exhausted, Bulma found herself ready to just give up on the entire night. She felt so weighed down, and completely without energy. She ungracefully sat on the ground, pulling out the headband that had been keeping her hair out of her eyes throughout her work.

"I give up," she sighed, closing her eyes for just a brief moment.

"Human," she heard a voice behind her that could belong only to one person, "you're going to get sick out here like that."

Her mind began to think of a reply, but she decided she didn't have to reply to every comment he made at her. Besides, she deserved to just give up for once, and that's what she was trying to do.

"What are you giving up on?"

Bulma's eyes fluttered open. Her crystal eyes were greeted with a dark figure standing over her. She let out a weary sigh before replying. "There are no stars out tonight."

"Oh?" Vegeta questioned, sitting down next to her.

Bulma sat up, propping herself on her elbows. Half-lidded eyes attempted to stay open for the sake of hearing what he had to say. "Care to prove me wrong?"

"They're still there," he pointed out, gazing up at the sky. "Just because you don't see them, doesn't mean they're not."

"When I said 'they're not out,' you know perfectly well what I was referring to!" Bulma shot back at him, not intending to raise her voice as much as she did.

Vegeta graced her with a smirk before pointing up above her.

Bulma looked up to see the sky had cleared in a small spot and a dim star was attempting to shine in the night sky. "Not a very bright star, but I guess it'll do," Bulma commented, her eyes not leaving the black sky.

"Not very bright, and yet it's the only one visible," Vegeta commented.

Bulma nodded in agreement at what seemed to be an attempt at irony, keeping her eyes focused on that one seemingly insignificant star.

"It's not as powerful as the others, yet it tries so hard," Vegeta whispered, "It's so weak, and yet it's determined. It's a shame, for it's hard to notice it on what is usually referred to as a 'beautiful' night. Only on nights like these can it really stand out."

"And on such nights," Bulma added with a sigh, "nobody pays attention, anyway."

"Like I said," Vegeta explained, "It's a shame."

"That it is," Bulma agree, rising from her spot on the ground. "I'm going inside for something to drink. You want anything?"

"No."

"Very well."

Not wanting to dive any deeper into their conversation, Bulma made her way to the kitchen. Feeling a bit freshened from the small talk, however, she decided to take another try at getting her work done before she went to sleep. This meant that a pot of coffee was in order.

"I won't be sleeping in your bed again tonight."

Bulma jumped, startled at the dark voice penetrating what she thought was an empty kitchen. Regaining her composure Bulma commented, "Probably for the best – I won't be sleeping in it as well."

Seeing a single brow raise from Vegeta, Bulma explained, "I have work to finish tonight."

The smell of fresh coffee filled the room. Bulma sighed in relief as she got out a coffee cup and filled it with the hot beverage. Before she could drink it, however, it was forced out of her hand and the contents were dumped down the sink.

"Hey!" Bulma exclaimed, "what's the big idea?"

"I don't want you drinking this anymore," was Vegeta's simple reply.

Bulma's eyes narrowed. Rather than say anything, however, she kept her eyes focused on the black orbs before her. The silent room seemed to only add to the tension Bulma was creating between the two. The air was filled with something unfamiliar, yet known all along – and it vibrated in every particle in that room – its origin, the piercing eyes that refused to step down from their opponent.

Without looking away, Bulma reached for another coffee cup, slamming it on the counter for emphasis. She was purposely defying him, hoping he'd get the picture to just leave her alone at this point. Or perhaps she was daring him to order her again, because she was not about to take his attitude on this empty night.

As can be expected, Bulma knew he wouldn't back down from her defiance. His eyes narrowed, tightening the tension that was already between them. He took a step closer to her, his gaze never leaving hers. They stayed like that for several minutes, each minute passing with the ticking of a clock. Darkness surrounded them and there was no escaping its cold, chilled hands.

Finally, Vegeta made a move. His eyes never left hers as his hand reached over and grabbed the handle of the coffee pot. She could see something spark in his eyes, a sort of warning, before he brought the coffee pot down on the counter with such force that it shattered to pieces, sending hot liquid everywhere.

Bulma hissed as hot liquid made contact with her skin. "You jerk!" she scolded as she made her way to the sink. "There's just no getting through to you, is there, Vegeta?" she questioned, her back now to him as she reached to turn on the cold water.

She was stopped, however, by two hands being placed on waist. She froze at the unexpected contact, trying to figure out if the goose bumps forming were from the chilly night, or his warm hands. Perhaps it was a combination of both.

The next moment, Bulma found herself lifted onto the other side of the counter, away from all the broken glass. She tried to look up at him, but he was to the side of her now, wetting down a wash cloth. He returned in front of her, softly placing the cold cloth to her cheek, removing what hot liquid had made its way to her pale, sleepy face. She closed her eyes, feeling the cloth slowly glide down her neck in such a gentle manner.

When she opened her eyes, he was seemingly concentrating on her legs. He let the cloth glide over them, removing what dark liquid had formed on her fair skin. Studying him further, however, she noticed his gaze was far off. She realized, then, he was dwelling on something, and at a loss for words. She bit her bottom lip trying to contemplate what she had said that had him so deep in thought.

The tension that had taken over the room moments ago, was now gone, and they were both left with a soft silence. Bulma wondered if she should break the silence to ease things, but decided against it, as it was much more comfortable, on both parties, to let Vegeta finish whatever he was pondering.

"I didn't mean to harm you," he finally said in a barely heard whisper. "I never intend to – I never did."

"Now that's a scary thought," Bulma cut him off, "'Cause I specifically remember _you_ giving me a bruise right here in this very kitchen."

The wash cloth had stopped its cleansing as Vegeta removed his hand, clenching it at his side. His gaze refused to meet hers, and Bulma found it odd how suddenly he appeared to be intimidated, though she knew better. His gaze went off again, drowning himself in his own thoughts. This time, however, Bulma wouldn't allow the silence to continue.

"I don't belong to you, Vegeta," Bulma whispered, her eyes filling with tears. She quickly realized they were forming from her own exhaustion.

"Not yet you don't."

"I never will," Bulma choked out in a low, yet stern voice.

Vegeta, slowly spreading her legs apart, pulled her forward on the counter. His hands made their way into her lab coat, pulling her closer to his own body.

Bulma felt her breath suddenly becoming shorter. His touch had done many things to her, but this feeling she was experiencing at that moment was something she had never experienced with him before. She had chills going down her spine…and she liked it.

His nose buried in her neck as he deeply inhaled her scent. Bulma felt her eyes close as his mouth reached her ear. Slowly he whispered, "That's too bad."

That statement had done it.

"Stop playing with me," Bulma rolled her eyes, "I'm too far off drowning in this _game_." When he didn't reply Bulma decided to push the point further to make sure he got it in his head, "You hear me, Vegeta? I'm not out there waving to you," she flared her arms for emphasis, "I'm drowning."

"_You've_ had it?" Vegeta replied in a harsh tone, "Have you thought how I possibly feel about this?"

"_Feel_?" Bulma was now getting angrier by the moment, "You've never felt a single emotion, Vegeta! Don't go try changing this around to try and get me into bed."

"I'm not trying to get you into bed," Vegeta harshly informed her, "I want _this_!"

Bulma's eyes met his, expecting something, anything…

"What?" she asked, suddenly and with force. "What is it you want?"

Vegeta's eyes narrowed as he leaned back into her, his nose just barely touching hers. In a dark, harsh tone that sent shivers through Bulma's body he replied, "You overwhelm me with hatred…_you_," he spat," make me feel hatred." He let a low laugh before taking in a breath and continuing in a lower tone, "Do you want to know the most twisted part of this?" he asked, his voice suddenly dropping even more until it was just short of a heavy breath. "I _love_ the fact I can feel this hatred."

Bulma's eyes widened as her stomach suddenly dropped. She watched as he turned away, moving out of the kitchen.

"That's the last move I'm making," he called to her without even turning, "the final move is yours."

"I…" Bulma tried to protest, but found she couldn't get any other words out. She took in a deep breath, trying to figure out what had just happened.

"And, Bulma," Vegeta called, "get some sleep."

With that, he exited the kitchen.

_One week later…_

Sleep…a close friend to one who suffers from a long day and endures the harshness that the world has to offer. It was a comfort to those who failed to live up to what they wanted to be so desperately; for it is in sleep that one is introduced to dreams. And those dreams are the small comfort that whispers in the ear of the one slumbering that perhaps there still is hope. Perhaps there is security. Perhaps solitude isn't forever. Perhaps…Perhaps not…

Darkness crept into the hallway, filling its long lengths with an insatiable blackness that continued to consume everything in its path. It drank the color upon any object before yielding it to be nothing more than invisible. Another victim of the only thing the night seemed to offer.

But darkness wasn't entirely evil, for it was only an absence of light, and light wouldn't be nearly as glorious if there wasn't any darkness to compare it to. And it was that same darkness that captured a bare foot stepping out from behind what was just a closed door. It was followed by another foot, each connected to legs that eventually formed the body of a woman. Such fair skin was darkened by the blackness, but not completely lost. Pale skin made its way down the hallway, down the stairs, and into the kitchen.

Darkness tried its best to overtake the kitchen that night, but was partially frightened away by the stars' light shining through the window. There was nothing that could scare darkness away. Nothing, that is, except for light. A small amount of a dim, blue light made its way into the room; a woman stepped into that light, her figure finally revealed from the shadows, basked in a blue light that made her appearance nothing short of enchanting. Perhaps not so much enchanting as melancholy, as she stood by the window holding a hot mug in her hands. The sweet smells of cocoa filled the air, deadening the loud calls of silence just a bit.

The cup was hot, and as heat travels to the coldest object, it ran through the hands of the woman, her fingertips no longer numb to her own emotion. Slowly, she blew some of the steam from the top of the cup, mesmerized by the effect her breath had on it. She brought the cup to her lips, slowly taking a drink, letting the liquid flow into her mouth, her tongue ravaging the sweet taste. Then it ran through her, sending heat flowing through her veins and satisfaction flowing through her being. Taking a breath, she closed her eyes, just breathing the moment. Then she made her way to the table, her entire body no longer in the light, though not entirely out of its reach.

Sighing deeply, she rested her head on the table, her hair flowing across its hard surface. Silence was broken as a low thunder could be heard in the background; surely a sign that spring would soon be upon them. It lifted her spirits slightly knowing that soon she'd be out of the grasp of winter's unforgiving hands.

A smile just barely graced her lips as she slowly lifted her head to take another drink of the hot liquid that seemed to satisfy her so much.

There was a good reason the woman arrived at this point on this night, a very good reason…

She couldn't sleep.


	21. The Final Move

**Possession**

Chapter 21 - _The Final Move_

It wasn't at all like she thought. It wasn't at all like a friendship and it certainly wasn't anything like love. It wasn't what she had been searching for. It wasn't even dependency, at least, not anymore.

It was only lines on a board.

Some moved diagonally along those lines. Others moved forward, unable to go back. Yet, some, could play the entire board.

How was it she found herself in check?

How did she end up as a pawn?

"Bulma."

The contemplative woman's eyes looked up to those of her father's. He was cleaning his glasses on his shirt, as was his ritual. After placing them back on his face, he blinked a few times as if his eyes were adjusting. Seeing her eyes were on him, he smiled. He patted the head of the cat that seemed to perpetually be on his shoulder.

Glancing down at the board to examine the pieces his eyes finally met hers again as he said the three words she didn't want to hear, but needed to hear nonetheless. Those three words to snap her from her wanderings and daydreams.

"It's your move."

Time melts away everything—memories, scents, feelings, even thoughts. How long ago was it that she was up in that old room playing chess with her father? How did she wind up from point A to point B? Was she even at point A in the first place?

And how fitting was it that she now found herself in the kitchen? This room once held a sense of fear. Was there longing too? She couldn't really place it. It seemed so long ago.

But it wasn't so long ago.

But time melts everything away.

Was she melting too? She no longer felt as if she existed. Somehow her movements couldn't be placed, and yet...

Yes, they had never before felt as much as her own.

Yes, that was it. They were hers. Everything was connected to her, and it was all hers. And the floor her feet touched, never made her tremble so much with feeling. It, too, was somehow connected to her. It, too, would feed her energy. Energy from the earth. The stars. Everything was connected, it seemed like, in this moment. Even in her sleep-deprived state, she had some energy. She could feed off the darkness in her thirst for light.

But she held onto herself enough to know that she wouldn't do that. She needed no dependency from the darkness. She could get by on the energy from the light...even if it was just light from the stars, which could radiate in darkness. Which couldn't radiate without darkness.

But Bulma was going to be the one that didn't have to depend upon darkness to radiate.

It must have been a strange sight to behold—the blue-haired woman in her silk nightgown that seemed to glow in the light pouring in from the windows. Shadows would float across her skin as the wind sang a song through the trees outside. Still, her skin never seemed so smooth, her features, so soft. But there was something cold encircling her, as well, and it shimmered with the moonlight off her nightgown, dodging the shadows playing all around her.

It must have been a strange sight to behold.

And it must have been a strange sound to the ears of one who thought silence was all that was worth hearing. A drained, soft, seemingly weak, yet somehow assertive voice rising from the glowing woman staring at the floor beneath her feet. Feet that must be cold on this night, and no warmth around the dark kitchen to warm them.

Such as strange voice.

"Still hiding in corners, Vegeta?"

The man in question silently kept his eyes on her profile. On the woman standing across the kitchen, staring at the floor. One step, and he was out of the dark, and immersed in the soft light of the moon, casting a more dominating shadow over the woman, like a demon ready for his conquest, looking for an entry, an open spot, on the woman waiting to be possessed.

"I have no need to hide."

"Then why are you here? Can't sleep?"

"I can sleep just fine."

The woman slowly raised her head, her eyes finally meeting those of her enemy.

"I thought so," was all she whispered when her eyes captured his.

"You obviously aren't fairing too well," was the harsh reply.

"Maybe it's not what it seems," the woman said in a low voice that was easily heard in the dead kitchen. Her eyes turned to the window, one small step and she was out of his shadow. Now the features of her face were illuminated by the moonlight and her eyes were deep, clear, and absorbing its power. "Nothing ever is, right?" she questioned.

Vegeta swallowed, with an obvious uncertainty with what was happening. Somehow, he didn't feel it a threat to let it show.

She continued as if consequence meant nothing to her. "Maybe it's..."

"...it's better this way?" he finished for her. "Is that what you think? It's better this way?"

"How about _you_ tell _me_?" her head tilted slightly in an inquisitive manner.

"You think this is what I wanted?" Vegeta was in disbelief, but obviously was holding back somewhat. His fists clenched at his side.

"No, I don't think this is what you wanted." Bulma walked, in a slow, steady movement until she was in front of her possessor. "What do you know of shame?"

"More than you could ever imagine," Vegeta said in a darkening tone, warning her to back off. "so don't even begin to think you understand me." He spat the words out as her talking to him was making him sick. Maybe it was.

"Will you redeem yourself?"

Vegeta glared at the woman before him. What was she getting at? Where did she think she was going with this? What messed up game did she think she was playing?

"I've done things you could never even imagine—even in your dark, sleep-deprived state," Vegeta stepped forward, so she could feel the heat of his words. "There's no redemption for me, Bulma."

"So what could I possibly want from you?" Bulma questioned in an eerily calm voice that seemed unphased by his close proximity. "What could I possibly gain from continuing this sick game with a pathetic Saiyan who has nothing better to do than pick on earth women for sport?"

"What are you implying?"

"Something's changed in you, Vegeta. I see it, Yamcha sees it, my father sees, and I know _you_ see it. Do you want something from me?"

Vegeta swallowed. Daring to be bold, daring to be vulnerable, daring to be...honest.

"Yes," he whispered.

"What?"

Vegeta's eyes searched her face for something to pop out at him. He found himself completely lost before voicing, "I don't know."

Letting out a long, frustrated sigh, Bulma's eyes narrowed into slits. Grabbing one of his hands, she placed it on her face, down her neck, then slowly, to her chest.

Vegeta's breath steadily grew deeper; Bulma remained unmoved.

"I feel nothing," she hissed. "I no longer can feel the trembles or shivers given to me by your touch. I don't even feel the fear."

"You're a strong woman."

"You've met stronger."

"Most women insist that loving me would somehow cure who I was. They'd let me possess them. They thought love could set me free."

"Naive."

"Yes."

"And so you're just waiting for me to let you possess me?"

"Not anymore."

"Why not?"

"I want something more."

"More than possession?"

"Are you laughing at me?"

"No."

"Mocking me?"

"No."

Vegeta stormed past her, making his way to the sink, stopping, then, as if changing his mind, turning to her. She would not turn to face him, however.

"Is this what you wanted to say? You no longer feel me? You no longer _fear_ me?"

"No; yes. Maybe. I don't know."

"Will you turn around?"

Vegeta winced at the vulnerability escaping out of his own voice. "Please."

Bulma stood, as if frozen, staring at the now empty corner. Her figure was still glowing in the moonlight.

"You told me...you said...if I had a...a broken heart...you'd laugh," Vegeta managed to get out, a little angrier than he intended. "For Kami's sake, Bulma! Would you turn around and face me?"

Bulma turned, her icy, narrowed eyes aimed at him. "Is that all you're worried about? Me laughing at you? Do you have a broken heart Vegeta? Because I see nothing broken in this kitchen."

"It can't break," Vegeta whispered, as if to himself, "I can't love."

"Precisely," Bulma's voice began sounding more coherent. "It's all a game, Vegeta. Remember that—it's all a game. Love. Hope. Life. It's all a game. With you—I get nothing out of it. Not anymore. I've become stronger now. I've learned to not fear you, now. But as it stands, I no longer can gain anything from you. So why should I continue playing?"

"If you stop now, I win," Vegeta growled.

"Win what?" Bulma's voice began getting a little louder in her frustration to make him see. "I'll no longer be part of your sick game of possession. I'm no longer available for your possession. You'll be left on an empty board, Vegeta. And that's the way you'll spend your entire life," realizing she was getting louder than was necessary, Bulma lowered her voice again. "You're pathetic and hopeless if you keep this up."

With that Bulma started for the stairs. "I'm walking away from this game—from you, and everything I thought I knew. I may be sleep-deprived, but I can still keep the sense to recognize that I don't have to be a part of this. In fact, once I leave this room—leave this game, leave you—I think I'll be able to sleep." Bulma stopped at the doorway, somewhat surprised he wasn't going to stop her, but disheartened by the fact he wasn't going to try.

"You could do the same," were her final words before leaving him in the darkness on his own. He could feel the electricity in the air—a storm was coming. Black clouds were now covering the moon, leaving the tall Saiyan with no light.

Bulma crawled under her sheets, thinking she was feeling something akin to power. However, once her cold skin made contact with the cold sheets, a wave of emotion began to leave her with a feeling of drowning once again.

She began running her hands softly over the sheets—her fingers ached so much to feel. Her breath became intense and wave after wave kept flooding her, she could feel herself sinking.

She quickly got up, and opened the balcony doors. Lightning flashed, and water poured down in cold reassurance. She had been so lost in her quiet she hadn't noticed the rain. Stepping onto the balcony, Bulma felt the cold rain gliding down her skin—but she didn't feel cold. Nor could she feel the contrast of heat on her face as tears began streaming down.

The only clue she picked up on was the sight of her breath in front of her.

"You're drowning."

Bulma turned, startled by the voice. "What are you doing here?" she asked, suddenly releasing her waves of emotion through her voice.

"I want to leave the game."

"I don't believe you!"

"And why should I care if you believe me?"

"Because you want something from me!"

"What do I want?"

"I don't know, but you can't have it!"

Vegeta was silent, so Bulma continued. "Prove to me, Vegeta. Prove to me that you can give me what no other man has given me. Can you love me?"

"I don't know if I can love you, Bulma. I don't know if I can give you what you want..."

"Then, what _can_ you give me?"

"Devotion."

Bulma felt her heart skip a beat in a moment that seemed to stop. Was he serious?

"I can devote myself to you, Bulma. It may not seem like much, but it's all I can offer."

She couldn't believe the vulnerability that he held in his eyes. Nor could she believe her senses, or her complete disregard for what she should be doing—leaving him alone outside in the rain.

"I could never redeem myself, Bulma," he began speaking again, but stopped, as if trying to find the right words to say.

"So you won't even try..."

"You misunderstand my meaning!"

"How the hell is it I always _misunderstand_ your meaning? Maybe you should be _clearer_ with your _meanings_," Bulma spat the last word out as if disgusted.

"I could never redeem myself—but I want to try and be better, regardless of it."

Bulma fell silent. Her eyes kept searching something from him.

"You're going to get sick."

"Never mind..."

"Let's go inside."

"Alright."

It wasn't until Bulma's feet touched her bedroom floor that she felt the cold again. She began to shiver uncontrollably.

"I'll get a towel," Vegeta mumbled, walking into her bathroom.

"Thanks," was all Bulma said as her eyes fell to the floor, her mind trying to take in all that had just been said.

"Here," Vegeta offered her the towel. When she didn't take it, he began to pat her dry. "You should get out of these clothes."

"Why are you so different?"

"I don't understand the question."

"Why will you devote yourself to me?"

"Because I want something from you?"

"But _what_?"

"I don't know," Vegeta hesitated, "But I want to be open...no...I want...I want you to...I want to be vulnerable around you," letting out a sigh he continued, "Yes, I feel I can be that around you. I'm not sure what I want from you. But I find it worth abandoning the game for...giving up my need to possess you for."

"Vegeta, I can't save you," Bulma slowly shook her head, as if revealing some tragic news to a dear friend.

"No, you can't. I told you, I'm beyond saving," Vegeta stood up to face her, "But you recognize it, as well, which makes me think that you could help me figure this out...this need...this _thing_ that I want from you."

Bulma rose her hand, hesitated a small moment, but then softly placed it on his face.

Vegeta didn't move, but just stood, staring, as if curious what her next move was.

"I feel with you," he stated, as if mesmerized.

"But is it possible for me to conjure positive feelings in you?"

Vegeta was silent.

"I'm so tired..."

"I give you full leave to change your mind in the morning. For now, let me stay with you."

"Alright."

"You should get out of those wet clothes."

"Turn around and I'll change."

Vegeta did as he was told. Both were scared to death of the decision they had just made. Bulma, at least, had the comfort of knowing she could change her mind in the morning. Vegeta had the agony of wondering what he'd do if she _did_ change her mind...and what would he do if she _didn't_?

After changing into dry clothes, both crawled under the covers, both not knowing what the morning would bring. Both slowly melting their worries and anxieties away in soft touches. Both silently trying to grasp what the other was about. What the abandonment of their game meant now. What the silence would mean in the morning.

Time melts away everything—memories, scents, feelings, even thoughts. How long ago was it that they were down in that cold room battling for the other's sanity? How did they wind up from point A to point B? Were they even at point A in the first place?

And how fitting was it that they now found themselves in each other's arms?

"Bulma," Vegeta whispered, finding himself not at all feeling awkward by the woman's head resting on his chest. "Are you still drowning?"

Bulma responded in a the mumbling of slumber, "I've come crawling on your shores."

And in a peaceful, unknowing bliss, both drifted onto the waves of sleep. Both began to melt in the unknowing future.

Time melts everything away.


End file.
